Heart Broken Open
by Leah Barrett
Summary: AU Season Six. Michael and Fiona have reached new milestones in their life in the four months since they destroyed Anson Fullerton. When Michael returns to work at the CIA, a mission to rescue a kidnapped British journalist sets them on a course that neither of them expected to take towards family.
1. Chapter 1

Heart Broken Open

Michael jogged slowly up the long metal staircase to the loft. He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the heavy steel door. He expected to find the living space nearly vacant but as he surveyed the room, he noticed an empty bottle of wine and glasses on the kitchen counter. His eyes moved next to the rumpled linens on the bed indicating that it had been slept in recently. Michael scanned the room for the nearest stash where he had a hidden weapon. He looked up quickly towards the clanking noise above his head.

"Is that you muffin?" Sam called down from the office.

"No, it's me." Michael called back.

Sam, clad in a t-shirt and boxer shorts replied, "I didn't expect to see you here this morning. Elsa and I stayed over. Hope you don't mind." He pulled on his jeans before descending the steps to the main floor of the loft.

"No problem, just ah, change the sheets would you." Michael winced as he glanced at the bed. He was glad that Fiona was not here to see that someone else had slept in their bed, regardless of the fact that it was on their old set of linens.

"Sure thing," Sam peered inside the ancient refrigerator. "Elsa went to get us some breakfast. There's no food here anymore." He shot an irritated at Michael as he closed the door.

"We moved out two months ago. What did you expect? There's another case of water in the back if you need more." Mike removed two bottles from the frig and tossed one to his best friend.

"So how is Fi? Is she still busy with the new house?" Sam took a long swig of water.

"She's good," Michael nodded. "I had no idea how much hassle this move would be. We still haven't finished unpacking."

Sam grinned. "Don't look at me. I live in a hotel. Elsa's got her staff for all that business."

Michael laughed and took a sip of water. "So about that client you asked me to meet, I have to pass on that." He paused to gauge Sam's reaction to his statement.

"They're sending you back into the field?" Sam questioned.

"I fly up to DC on Monday morning to meet with Pearce and Raines."

"Congratulations. That's great news." Sam smiled and clapped his friend on the back. "How's Fi with the idea of you getting assignments again? It's been what, about four months since we finished up that Anson business?"

"Yeah, I couldn't imagine leaving her for a minute when she first got back." Michael walked towards the balcony and pushed open the doors. "We had a lot we needed to work through for a while," as he stared out at the river, lost in thought.

"It seems like things are solid now between you two. Right?"

He turned slowly back to Sam and a faint smile pulled at his lips. "Yeah, we are. She wants me to get back out there and finish mending fences with Raines. This was the first mission he requested my help on specifically."

"How's Pearce? Does she still want to kick your ass?" Sam joked.

"I take that one day by day." Michael drained the last of the water from the clear bottle.

"Bringing down Anson sure helped the CIA with their mess."

"Pearce and I, we have our own issues to resolve." Michael tossed the empty water bottle into the bin under the sink.

Sam laughed, "I don't envy you for a minute on that one.

Michael's face grew serious again. "Sam, I need to ask you to keep an eye on things while I'm gone. Fi wouldn't want you checking up on her but…"

Sam smiled and said, "You can count on it Brother."

Michael continued his run down the canal. After a few miles, he cut through a residential neighborhood and wove a path through a series of side streets until he arrived at his mother's house. He stopped out in front to stretch out a cramp in his leg. The sun had just broken over the horizon and he noted her car in the driveway. He glanced at his watch. It was half past six in the morning. All signs indicated that his mother was home but would likely still be asleep. He was about to return to his run when he noticed a tall clump off weeds snaking out of a crack in the sidewalk that led to the house. He walked over and pulled out the offending plant.

As he stood up, he heard his mom call through the window. "Michael, what are you doing here?"

"I was just out for a run," he shouted back.

"Come in and have some coffee. I just made a pot." She waved and then disappeared from the window.

"No thanks Ma, I should be getting back." He tossed the clump of weeds into a nearby trash bin and turned to find his bathrobe clad mother standing in the doorway.

"Just come in for a few minutes. Your fiancée won't mind," she teased. Madeline smiled as she held the door open and waited patiently for her son to comply.

"No, she won't," he replied in deference as he walked up the steps. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek as he passed through the threshold and took a seat at the dining room table. Michael knew his mom was elated that he and Fiona were finally engaged. Over the last three months, she took every opportunity she could to tell him so.

"You know you should have the lawn guy come back and give those hedges a trim." Michael pointed towards the windows that overlooked the front yard.

"Are you kidding? Those guys charged me fifty bucks a week to cut the grass all summer. They woke me at sun up with that damn mower every Tuesday morning. I told them only to come once a month now." She handed him a steaming mug of coffee and sat down to join him at the table.

Surprised and slightly irritated by her reaction, he replied, "Mom, you really don't have to worry so much about money anymore."

"You know, I still don't understand something. All those years you lived in the loft and you never had much money. Then, out of the blue, you buy a house with cash and tell me you're actually very wealthy. I don't get it."

"Mom, I had plans to buy that house for six months. When it came on the market I bought it," he said in a matter-of-fact tone as he added a drop of milk into the strong black coffee.

"That's fine, but the money didn't come out of thin air." Maddie eyed her son cautiously. She was not sure if she really wanted to know the answer to her question. Over the years she had learned that some of Michael secrets were better left undisturbed. But she also trusted her son's integrity and that he would tell her as much as he could about his work arrangement with the CIA.

"It's like I told you before. All those years I was ….away, I earned money. I made a steady salary and I had my investments managed. I had a fairly significant portfolio. There was more than enough for me to live comfortably when I retired."

"So where did it go all those years?"

"When I got burned, everything was frozen. I didn't have access to it because they took it from me." Michael looked down and ran his hands through his hair. After all these years, it still made him angry when he recalled the early days of his exile from the CIA. He remembered the frustration of being left out in the cold by the organization he served for so many years. When he looked up at his Mom sitting across the table, he was reminded of the life that was restored to him in the intervening years.

"For a long time I didn't care very much about the money," he continued. "All that mattered was finding the people who burned me and clearing my name." A faint smile appeared on his face. "But now …it's not just for me. A part of the purpose for my reinstatement was to have those funds restored."

"So when you got back in they returned it, just like that?" Madeline remained unconvinced by his story. Over the course of her life she had learned that nothing ever came easily. She had seen in recent years that the old adage held true for her son and his friends. She feared that somehow this good fortune would come back to haunt the couple just as they found some tranquility in their lives.

"It took some negotiation but, yes, they did. There is an irony to it though. I got burned in '07 before the crash on Wall Street. If the CIA had not pulled the money out of market when they did the portfolio would have lost more than half its value."

"So getting burned actually helped you." Madeline looked at her son in astonishment.

"Yes, according to my accountant and a few other people I've met recently," he nodded.

"After everything you kids have been through, I'm glad you have some peace of mind." She reached across the table and patted Michael softly on the hand.

He returned his Mom's smile but then his expression grew serious as he thought of his upcoming assignment. There was no point putting off the inevitable. "Mom, there is one more thing. I'm going back to work with the CIA. I have an assignment and I will leave for DC in a few days."

"Michael, so soon?" Maddie's face could not hide her disappointment.

"Fi and I have discussed it. She's on board with the idea."

"Do you think she's ready for you to leave again?" she questioned.

"Mom, she has been home for four months. We've had a lot of time to work on … our issues. And to be honest, I think she's tired of having me under her feet all the time." He laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Maddie's voice cracked as she spoke. "Well, if that's what you two have decided, I'll support you." The sadness in her eyes did not match her supportive words. She stood up quickly and reached for her pack of cigarettes on the nearby counter. She glanced at Michael, anticipating an impending scolding for smoking in his presence. Yet, he remained quiet. He was keenly aware that the announcement of his impending departure had deeply affected his mom.

"I'll call the lawn guy and have him come by in the afternoon. OK?" he offered as a conciliatory gesture.

She smiled and said, "Thanks. Now why don't you finish up your run and head home to Fi?"

Michael walked to the kitchen and dumped the nearly full cup coffee down the sink. He quickly rinsed the mug and placed it in the dishwasher. When he turned back to face the dining room, he could feel his mother's eyes on him. He took a few hesitant steps towards Maddie and pulled her in for a protective hug. "It's going be fine Mom," he whispered.

She brushed backed a tear and sniffled, "I know, I know. It's just been so nice having you home. That's all."

He gave his mother a reassuring smile and said, "I promise I'll swing by before I leave. OK?"

She nodded and gave him an appreciative smile as he turned to slip out kitchen door.

Michael ran for several more miles, weaving his way through a development of large houses that surrounded a golf course. He dodged oncoming traffic along a busy road until the ocean came into view off in the distance. He turned down a side street and continued a few more blocks until he stopped at small Craftsman-style bungalow.

He bent at the waist to stretch out his tight muscles as he scanned the scene in front him. The house had a small front porch and a well landscaped front yard. It was set back from the road and was nestled on both sides by clusters of trees. It was located on the perimeter of a small cult-de-sac of four similarly modest sized homes. There was no motion from any of the other residences in the neighborhood. The sun crested the tops of the trees that shaded the houses from the intense heat already bearing down from overhead. Michael used the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe away the sweat that stung his eyes. He was glad to make it home before the sun got too strong.

He walked up the driveway to the back door and punched in a key code. He waited for a click before turning the door knob. "Fi," he called out as he stepped into the mudroom and kicked off his running shoes. When he did not hear a response, he remembered the early hour. His fiancée would, very reasonably, still be asleep on a Saturday morning. Even though he had extended the invitation many times, Fiona did not care to join him on his early morning runs. Since they moved into their new home two months ago Michael and Fi had established a post-Saturday morning run tradition. The anticipation of it motivated Michael through the grueling last few miles.

He stepped into the sunny kitchen, pulled off his sweat soaked t-shirt and lobbed it into a basket in the nearby laundry room. He opened the door of the massive stainless steel refrigerator and reached behind a wide assortment of yogurt containers for a carton of orange juice. He took swig straight from the container as he strolled into the open dining and living room to survey the improvements Fiona had made to their home to the last few days. Her snow globes were proudly displayed on the shelf he had built for her a few years ago. The fireplace mantle was covered with framed photos of their friends and family.

He noted the addition of a delicate silver frame that held a picture of him and Fiona during their early days in Ireland. As he gazed at the photo, he was drawn back into the memory of the day it was taken. They were blissfully unaware of the camera when Fiona's sister-in-law, Katie, had snapped the photograph as the couple stood on the front steps of their flat in Belfast. She gazed lovingly into his eyes and then kissed him as he held her in an embrace. A few weeks later, Fiona's brother Collin, gave him a copy of the picture. "Look who our darling Fiona has got wrapped around her little finger. Good luck to you, McBride. Lord knows you'll need it," the older brother teased as he patted Michael on the back.

All evidence of the depth of feeling for each other was captured a simple photo. It held a special meaning to Michael for years to come. After he left Ireland and for sometime later, he had kept it safely tucked away among his most private possessions. During their recent separation, he kept the picture close at hand clinging to the happiness of the memory for comfort. Now, it served as a reminder that he had almost lost her twice and he would never let it happen again. He thought he would ask Fi to move it somewhere more private, perhaps on his nightstand in their bedroom. As he set it carefully back on the mantel, he took another gulp from the carton when he felt a pair of warm arms glide around his waist.

"We have a perfectly good set of glassware for that you know," she whispered with a raspy breath into his ear.

A shot of heat raced down his spine as he coughed on a mouthful of juice. _No one but Fiona could sneak up on him like that_. He wiped the orange dribble from his chin with the back of his hand. "Sorry Fi," he mumbled with embarrassment. Michael's domestication, along with unpacking their house, was a slow work in progress. He turned to face her and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

She leaned in for more. "You taste good."

"Fi, I just got back from my run. I'm all sweaty. I really need a shower."

"Mmm," she cooed, "it turns out we also have a nice roomy one in our new bathroom." She grinned mischievously and kissed him again.

"Is that so..," as he pulled her into him. He was reminded why their master bath was his favorite room in the new house and Saturday morning was the best part of his week. "Shall we?" he kissed her neck and walked them slowly into the bedroom.

"I'd love to," and she closed the door behind them.

#####

Later that same quiet Saturday morning, Michael and Fiona were in a waterfront shopping district browsing at Fiona's favorite fine linen store. She poured over a selection of sumptuously thick bath towels. As her hand ran along the display, she came across a tiny cushioned hanger that held delicately embroidered Christening dress made from Irish linen. The gown was bright white with a billowing skirt and pleats across the front. Created to be worn by a newborn, the narrow bodice looked like it would more likely fit a toy doll than a child. Fiona let escape a barely audible gasp that only Michael, who stood close by, might have heard. She fingered the impossibly intricate stitching and whispered to herself something he could not quite decipher. There was a hint of a smile on her face as if she was reliving a happy moment from her past. But the expression was quickly replaced with a wince of pain as she dropped her hand to her side. In a flash, her attention returned to the towels in front of her. She suggested to Michael that they purchase a set for their master bath.

"Sure, whatever you want." He softly kissed her temple and returned his focus to a flier for a charter fishing boat that he had picked up in the previous store. He glanced up at the dress again and looked over at Fiona who seemed engrossed in a shelf bursting with soft cream and pastel colored pillows. Michael had told her long ago that he was incapable of reading her mind but after years of living and working together, he had developed a knack for reading her face. Annoyance, hesitation, exasperation, and bliss just to name a few, Michael had learned to notice the signs like the winds of an upcoming storm. Sadness. He had seen it many times before. He knew that over the course of the years he had been the reason for much of it. Unsure of the source at the moment, he watched her closely as she glanced again at the dress and then met his gaze.

"My eldest brother's two sons were christened in a gown like that." She looked at the dress one more time with a faint smile and turned back the display of towels.

For the next few minutes, Michael watched silently as Fiona cheerfully conversed with the saleswoman. He was quite skilled at intuiting his enemy's emotions and motivation but Fiona could still be enigmatic. It was rare that she ever spoke of her family. After their encounter with O'Neal made it impossible for her to return to Ireland, she had limited contact with her parents or any of her brothers. Her grief over the loss of her sister Claire was still a raw nerve to be avoided at all costs. He questioned if perhaps their recent engagement had made her homesick for her family. He wondered if they would give their blessing to her union with Michael McBride, the American spy. Sadly, there was little he could do to change matters so he chose to keep his thoughts to himself.

When Fiona finished the transaction, Michael took the shopping bags from her and they walked in silence onto the busy street. They strolled for a few blocks and stopped at a juice bar for a blueberry smoothie. As Michael handed the cashier a twenty dollar bill, he was struck by a revelation that shook him to his very core. _What if it she is NOT homesick?_ His mind flashed back to the tiny dress in the store and the look of pain on her face. He handed Fiona the plastic cup and pushed a straw into the lid. Did he dare ask the next question that swirled in his mind?

"Why don't we sit for a while?" as she relaxed into a nearby bench.

Michael stood next to her as he instinctively surveyed the crowd of beach clad tourists and locals going about their business. Suddenly, he felt something brush against his right leg. When he glanced down to push it away he was surprised to see a tiny set of arms wrapped around his tan trousers.

A toddler boy with a head of floppy, curly brown hair looked up at him and said, "Da Da."

Michael stepped back, unsure from where the child had appeared. "Hey there, where'd you come from?" He turned to scan the crowd for an anxious parent.

Fiona, who had witnessed the exchange, laughed at Michael's startled reaction. "Relax Michael; his mother is right over there." She pointed to a bathing suit clad woman about half a block away who carried an assortment of bags, towels and beach toys.

"Ethan, Ethan! Come back here! You need to stay with Mommy!" shouted the panicked woman.

Fi waved to the worried mother as she took the child's hand and said, "Let's go find your mom."

She led the little boy down the sidewalk several paces.

As they approached, relief washed over the face of the young mother. "He just slipped away from me for a minute. It's terrifying in these crowds."

"I can imagine. Here, let me help you with some of your things." Fiona reached for a bag.

The mother dropped her belongings onto the sidewalk and lifted her young son into a tight hug. "You need to stick close, OK? It's not safe without Mommy in a big crowd. I don't want to lose you." She looked him in the eye. "Do you understand me?"

The boy kissed her and chirped "OK Mama." He wriggled out of his mother arms and his miniature-sized sandals landed on the sidewalk with a soft tap-tap sound.

Fi watched the brief exchange between the parent and child. "Michael, come give us a hand here," she called over her shoulder.

"Is everything OK?"

"She has a lot to carry," Fi replied without looking at him. She passed the canvas tote bag overflowing with beach towels to a bewildered Michael. He nodded a greeting as he picked up the bags and chairs from the sidewalk. He too had watched the brief interactions from a distance and observed the flash of sadness on Fiona's expression.

The woman apologized. "We always meet my husband by this bench. He went to get the car at the lot. It's about ten blocks away."

Fiona picked up a beach chair. "It's really no problem at all. We were just taking a break."

With that, a blue mid-size SUV pulled up and a man in a floral shirt jumped out. "Quick, Manda. I'm double parked," he shouted. He picked up the little boy and said, "Hey Bud, ready to go," as he carried his son over to the car. The child tugged the blue baseball cap off his father's head and let out a giggle. "Hey give that back!" the man feigned surprise as the little hands replaced the hat onto his own head. He quickly strapped the young boy into his car seat and ran back to the front of the truck.

Michael adjusted the rim of his own dark blue baseball hat and glanced back to Fiona who chatted with the woman as they loaded the chairs and bags into the back of the SUV. He picked up the last tote bag that sat lonely on the sidewalk and handed it to Fiona who placed in the truck.

Fi smiled at young woman and said, "You have a beautiful son."

The young woman thanked them for their kindness and waved goodbye as she climbed into the passenger seat. The blue SUV pulled quickly into traffic and disappeared down the road.

Fi returned to the bench and her melted blueberry smoothie. She glanced over at Michael who settled in next to her and let out a sigh of relief. She studied his expression for a minute and then commented, "They made quite a team."

Michael took a sip from his drink. "Yeah, it works well for them." He glanced sideways at Fi.

"That little boy was really cute. He liked you." She sucked on the straw awaiting his response.

"Well, not usually, like I've always said about kids, they're just not my thing."

"No, that's what you said about relationships. And look where that got you." She smiled at her fiancé and took another sip from her smoothie.

"He thought I was his dad because of my baseball hat." He turned to her with an annoyed look on his face.

"Don't act so terrified Michael. All I am saying is sometimes," she reached gently for his hand, "there are things that we never expect to change and then they do." She laced her fingers though his and they both looked down at the two carat diamond engagement ring that adorned her delicate finger.

"Yes, that's true," he said softly as he kissed her hand. He thought of the changes to their relationship over the last six years. There were so many things that her love had added to his life and that she had sacrificed in order to be with him. Then his stomach tightened as he remembered the look on her face in the linen store and again during their encounter with the young family. He was unsure where she was headed with the conversation so he chose his words carefully. "But Fi, I've always said that I never saw myself as the picket fence type."

"Yes, you have." She stared straight ahead without looking at Michael.

Michael hesitated. He was not sure to if he should ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. "Are you saying that you regret that you never had a …"

"Just stop it. Don't put words in my mouth," she replied angrily.

"So you don't regret that you never…"

"I am not sure what you expect me to say. It's not that simple. …There is plenty that has happened in my life that I didn't want or plan. But I can't look back. After everything we have been through in the last two years or more." Her voice was filled with emotion. "I am grateful that we finally have some peace in our lives, Michael. I am happy with what I have with you." She stood up and collected the bags from the side of the bench. "Besides, even if I was with a different man it still would be impossible." She walked down the sidewalk and left Michael in a stunned silence. After a few paces, she called back over her shoulder. "I think I've had enough shopping for today." She kept ahead of Michael for several blocks and did not say a word to him until they reached her car. He expected to get an earful but instead she gave him a cool smile and said, "So where are you taking me to lunch?"

Michael opened the car door and flashed a Cheshire cat grin. "Anywhere you like."

#####

The next morning, Michael was at his mom's house to fix her kitchen sink. As he stared at the pipe over his head, he tried to muster the courage to ask Madeline the question that he, for fear of the repercussions, did not want to ask Fiona directly. _What exactly did she mean impossible?_

He wished he could take back his questions about her possible regrets the instant the words escaped his mouth. Michael knew the inherent danger of bringing up a line of questioning that could very quickly slip out of his control. He had made it clear from the start of their relationship that he never saw himself as father material. There was little about their lifestyle that lent itself to child rearing. What had he expected her to say? Perhaps, he simply wanted reassurance that he was not withholding something important from her. But what if she had said yes, she wanted a baby, their baby, could he tell her no after everything they had been through?

The vague remark she made before she walking off to the car was most troubling to Michael. If having a child had never been possible for her, why was that the case? How long had she known and why was she unwilling to share it with him until now? What was most unsettling to him was that before yesterday it had never occurred to him to ask.

Madeline could only see her son's legs sticking out from under the counter. She stood close by, smoking a cigarette, ready to assist in the repair.

He yelled out to her, "Okay! Try the cold. Just a quarter turn. Are you getting anything?"

"No, not yet!" She turned the handle several rotations until the water streamed from the facet at full blast.

Michael howled, "Ah! No, that' too fast! Turn it off, dammit!" He climbed out from under the sink with his shirt drenched. "Ma, I said a quarter turn." He grabbed a dish towel from the stove and mopped his soaking wet hair.

"Take a break Michael, I made you a sandwich." She carried the plates into the dining room and said, "Go put that on the clothes line. I don't want you dripping all over my new tablecloth."

He tossed the shirt on the wire that ran the length of the tiny backyard and headed to his old bedroom to retrieve a fresh one from his dresser. As he opened the drawer, he smiled to himself when he saw one of Fiona's petite cotton tops. His mind returned to a recent visit when they had spent the night and he peeled the delicate garment off Fiona as they got ready for bed. They made love on the small twin bed that had been in his room his entire childhood. He recalled her muffled moans of pleasure as drove her to the point of ecstasy. The shirt must have dropped under the bed or become tangled in the bedding. "Fi," he whispered as he lifted it to his face and inhaled her light fragrance. He carefully replaced it in the drawer, pulled his own t-shirt and walked out to join his mother in the dining room.

"Thanks for making lunch, Ma." Michael rarely enjoyed his mothers cooking, but in this case it was really difficult to mess up deli meats. Some of the few memories of satisfying meals from his childhood were a ham and cheese sandwich with chips and a deli pickle on the side. Maddie poured them each a glass of iced tea and sat across from her son at the table.

"So how's my girl doing?" she asked with a grin.

Michael flashed his mother a knowing smile and said, "She's doing great."

He was pleased that his fiancée and his mother got along so well. Yet, he also lived in fear that the two most important women in his life had a secret alliance against him. That had been clear from the day Fi arrived in Miami, and the intervening years had only served to solidify their relationship. Michael knew well, that if his mom ever had to choose between him and Fi, there was no contest as to who would win her favor. Yet, while he was sometimes the odd man out in the triad, he took comfort in the fact that the women he loved so deeply looked out for each other in his absence. Especially, since he would be leaving to return to work for the CIA tomorrow. He had lingering concerns to resolve before he left. Michael cleared his throat, unsure if he wanted to share the intimate questions that had preoccupied his thoughts all morning. But he was confident that if there was anything to know, Madeline was the best source for the information. "Mom, I need to ask you something, it kind of a sensitive subject so we need to keep the conversation private, is that OK?"

Madeline's pleased expression shifted to worry. "Honey, is everything alright?"

Michael looked down at his sandwich on his plate. "Yes, everything is fine. I think… It's just, Fi… She said something yesterday. I didn't understand what she meant at the time but I didn't want to ask her anymore about it. I think it would have upset her."

"Michael did you two have a fight?"

Michael stabbed at his sandwich with the pickle spear. This was harder to talk about than he expected. "I asked her if she ever regretted not having a baby. And she told me that it doesn't matter because it would be impossible."

Maddie's face softened. "Oh, I see. You want to know if it's because she is with you or something else is going on?"

"Yeah," he said in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice. He finally looked up at his mother. He was grateful she was going to go easy on him about this."I guess that's it. Did she ever say anything to you?"

Maddie pushed her sandwich aside and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She lit one and pulled a long puff. Michael normally would have objected but in this matter he needed his mother's help. He kept quiet and waited for her to speak.

"This is a conversation that you should have with your fiancée, you know that."

Michael nodded, accepting the light admonishment. "Ma, please."

"I love you two very much so I will tell you what I know. A few years ago, just before Charlie was born, we put on a baby shower for Ruth. While we were getting ready Fi and I had, you know…a girl talk. I wouldn't normally nose around with a bunch of personal question but babies are what you talk about at these things."

"What did she say?"

"I asked her if you two ever discussed' 'the maybe someday' scenario. She just smiled and tried to laugh it off. After a few minutes, she grew really quiet so I asked her if my question had upset her. She said 'No, but even if Michael ever came around, it really would be impossible,' and then tried to change the subject."

"That's what she said to me yesterday."

"So I asked her, 'Is my son really that much of a jackass that you wouldn't want to have his child?'

"Ma! Really!"

"She insisted that wasn't the problem at all but it was something that happened a long time ago and didn't like to talk about it."

Michael rested his chin in his hand with worry written all over his face. "What happened to her Mom?"

"It was a medical condition. She developed it in her early twenties. She had an abnormal growth on her uterus. The mass weakened the organ and the doctors told her it would be difficult for her conceive and any pregnancy could be dangerous to her health." Madeline flicked her cigarette at the ash tray and took another puff. "She had to have surgery. You've never noticed the scar on her belly?" she asked in disbelief.

Annoyed, he shouted back, "Well, yeah, but she said it was a from a knife fight."

"And you believed her!"

"Ma, this _is_ Fiona we're talking about here. I have scars from Fi!"

"Well anyway," she returned to her story. "It was clearly difficult for her to discuss. But, she was adamant that she had made peace with the matter years ago and her lifestyle did not lend itself to a traditional family. She insisted that it was only since her reunion with you that she had given it a second thought." The older woman raised her eyebrows at Michael accusingly and took another puff of her cigarette. "She said that she has accepted that her life was not meant to include a child and was grateful for everything she had with you. And then … she made me promise that I never speak of it to you."

Michael rubbed his forehead anxiously. He had no idea on what to say, either to his mom at that moment or to Fiona at home tonight. This subject was too wrought with relationship landmines not to proceed with the utmost caution. If he said anything to her before he left on his first assignment back with the CIA it would disrupt the equilibrium they had finally found in their lives. He could not open up the emotional equivalent of Pandora Box and then just walk away. It would be too cruel. His flight to DC left at 5:45 tomorrow morning and he had no idea what his next mission would entail or the length of time he would be away. Even if he did not have to leave, he had not had time to resolve his own thoughts on the matter. Michael sighed in exasperation. "Ma, what do I say to her? How do I fix this?"

Maddie pulled one last drag from her cigarette and shook her head at her son in disappointment. "With everything that you two have been through together, I am astounded that you two haven't resolved this years ago." Then, she reached across the table with a sympathetic smile and squeezed her son's hand. "This is a loss for Fiona. When she _really_ doesn't get to make a choice in the matter; there are feelings of grief for any woman. Talk to her, she needs you for this too."

#######

Michael felt Pearce eye him suspiciously as he walked into her D.C. office. It had been four months since they completed the mission to eliminate Anson Fullerton and he had not seen or spoken to her since. Michael's unrelenting determination to destroy the man who had caused six years of chaos in his life resulted in the reestablishment of his credibility within the CIA. But Pearce, however, had made it clear at the end of the mission that her trust in him would not be restored so easily. Not after he had withheld so much from her and placed incriminating files on her laptop while under orders from Fullerton. Luckily, Jesse had intervened in time to prevent a crisis but the damage to her trust in him was already done. Her last words to him before he left echoed in his mind. "Go home Michael. Take care of Fiona. Come back in a few months when your head is back in the game."

Thankfully, he had done just that and was happier for it. His life with Fi was filled with more joy than he ever had hoped to find. Yet, he was resolved to fully restore his reputation and return to work for the CIA and the nation that he had dedicated his career to serve. He nodded to Dani and took a small step backwards towards the door when he saw she was still on the phone.

"Have a seat Westen," she said as she covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand.

Michael sat down in a nearby armchair and scanned her desktop for clues about the upcoming assignment. He noticed several satellite photos of a military encampment surrounded by thick jungle and steep mountain terrain. "Better find my hiking boots," as he shifted in his seat and tried to mask his growing impatience with his supervisor.

Pearce ended the call as she said, "Understood, I'll send him over as soon as I get him up to speed."

Michael stood up and offered Pearce a cordial handshake. "It's nice to see you again."

He watched her eyes carefully for the flash of anger that was so apparent the last time they spoke. He was surprised as she looked up from the file in front of her and gave him what could only be recognized as a genuine smile.

"Nice to have you back Westen. How's Fiona?" she said cheerfully.

He could not prevent a grin from slipping onto his face at the mention his fiancée. "She is doing very well thanks," he said politely.

"Anything going on that you wanted to tell me before coming back to work?" she inquired.

"Not really. There isn't any secret blackmail or conspiracy to report if that's what you mean," he said with a bite of sarcasm.

"Good to know," she laughed. "I heard through the grapevine that you and Fi were getting married. I wanted to congratulate you."

"Yeah, we got engaged about three months ago."

"I wish you all the best." Pearce smiled again with warmth that he had only seen a few times before in the many months they had worked together.

"Thanks Dani," he nodded and glanced back down at the desk. Perhaps he might be closer than he'd assumed to regaining her trust.

"So you ready to get back in the game?"

"Yes," he said confidently.

"Good," as she handed him a thick blue folder, "because I really need you on this one, Michael."

Dani walked around to the front of her desk and leaned back as she crossed her arms in front of her. Michael pulled a photo of young blonde woman walking across a city street on the arm of a dark haired man. He looked up quickly; ready to listen to the details of the new mission.

Pearce began, "An English journalist has been kidnapped by the militia of the General Guierro, a disgraced military commander who was removed from his post by the current President of Panama. Her name is Elizabeth Albright and she works for BBC World out of Panama City. Five days ago, she went to meet a source at a compound eighty miles outside of the city and never came back. She was reported missing by her fiancée who happens to be with the CIA. He told the Agency that she had recently uncovered information about a coup to overthrow the Panamanian President by General Guierro. The kidnappers have threatened to kill Albright if information about their plan is released to the government or the press. They don't want to negotiate ransom or prisoner exchange. They claim she will only be released as a gesture of good will by General Guierro once he is in power."

"That will never happen. If she has seen anything, she'll end up dead either way."

"We know," Pearce replied somberly.

"What do you need me to do?"

"We have reason to believe that Guierro has an alliance with the La Vega cartel, one of the top two cocaine producers in Panama. They have been funding his secret army and providing weapons. The partnership will place La Vega at a strategic advantage in the cocaine trade if the coup is successful. "

"So what's the angle on this? Do we have anyone already on the ground?"

"The CIA has a contact within the organization of a rival cartel in Panama, headed by Javier Alvarez. We picked up several members of his gang in Miami for immigration violations. Our alliance is shaky but there is an agreement to return his men in exchange for information on the whereabouts of Albright. But right now, we don't even know for sure if she is still being held by Guierro's militia or members of La Vega's gang."

"How much have you told their government? Does the Panamanian President even know?"

"We have tried to keep this as quiet as possible. If word gets back to Gueirro, Albright is as good as dead. If we can find her before the coup attempt, maybe she can give us more details and we can head it off at the pass."

"So where do I start?"

"We arranged a meeting with one of Alvarez's lieutenants at a remote location outside of Panama City. In exchange for intel on the kidnapping his men get a one-way ticket out of Miami."

"How do we know we're not walking into a trap?"

"We don't. The source is still an unknown commodity. But we do know for certain that Alvarez would want nothing more that to watch Gueirro and La Vega go down in flames. If they do, he comes out on top. Raines has requested that you go with him to the meet. There will be a small team assigned to back you up."

Michael closed the folder and rose to offer Pearce a handshake when she dismissed him from the meeting. He was surprised when she continued her story.

"Ah, there is one more thing Michael. I know the fiancé… Albright's fiancée. His name is Pasqual Camacho. He was one of the top new recruits in his training group at the Farm when I was there as an instructor a few years back. He's a good agent and a friend. He blames himself for Elizabeth's kidnapping. He let her go to the meeting alone and without adequate protection."

She paused and looked at Michael who nodded back at her. They silently acknowledged that he understood exactly the situation she described.

"They are both so young, only a couple years out of grad school. They are just getting started in their careers and still optimistic about making a difference in the world." Pearce shook her head in sadness. "I don't want this kid to go through what I did, losing Jay. I promised him that we would find her. Michael, I gave him my word. "

Michael felt his chest tighten. He recognized all too well the way the young agent felt. He knew the overwhelming fear of never again holding the woman he loved and the unrelenting guilt that his actions somehow put her in harm's way. Michael blew out a long breath. "Understood, would you send me the coordinates of the meeting site?"

"It's already done. Raines is waiting for you in his office to go over the op. You fly to Panama City tonight. Michael, it's good to have you back."

Michael shook Pearce hand and said, "Thank you. It's good to be back." He walked out the door and closed it slowly behind him.

####

Michael walked cautiously down the steep mountainside trail listening for movement in the tropical forest nearby. He had not seen any signs of guerilla fighters since they took fire from a squad crammed into two jeeps while on the approach to the village just forty minutes earlier. When they arrived at the small town, the state of the half a dozen corpses strewn along the side of the road indicated that the initial raid had take place about twenty-four hours before. The last of the death squad, who had likely been lying in wait, shot at the CIA team as they entered the town square. The enemy was eliminated with a well placed bullet to the fuel tank of one of their trucks as it fled the scene. The smell of death hung heavy in the air as the CIA team inspected the few dozen houses of the farming community. Raines ordered the four members of the security team to inspect the nearby villa and compound that overlooked the surrounding mountains. They reported back that the site had been heavily fortified but appeared to be deserted. No casualties or dead were found.

Michael felt a wave of nausea wash over him as the images of the dead flashed through his mind. He had no idea who had brought such terror to this isolated hamlet but he had no doubt there was a direct connection to the meeting with the CIA and the warring drug gangs. He felt a sour taste rise up the back of his throat as he pictured his own house in ruins like the burned out shacks in the tiny hamlet. He ran to the tree line and emptied the contents of his stomach on the surrounding greenery. "You're getting soft Westen." He could hear the admonishment he would receive from Raines if the senior officer had been present to witness his brief moment of weakness. Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to focus on the landscape in front of him.

In the distance, he heard a sound of an animal, perhaps the bleating of a sheep or a goat. The noise came from the direction of a small shed a short distance down the hill. While it was likely that the commotion was simply a few livestock left abandoned by their herder, Michael decided to investigate further. He let gravity do the work as he sprinted down the rocky trail towards the outbuilding. The noise grew louder as he approached until he recognized that it was not the call of an animal but was instead the cry of a person.

He drew his weapon as he crept to the shack and slowly pushed open the wooden door. As light illuminated the dark corners of the space, the first thing Michael noticed was a blue towel on the floor. He stepped farther in and he drew his flash light. As he swept the room, the light connected with something that caused him to step back. It was a tiny set of the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen. He knelt down and was astounded to see a small boy, about two years old, standing in a wooden fruit crate. He stared up at Michael with sheer terror in his eyes.

"Holy Shit! Raines! Get down here! Michael yelled into his radio."We have a survivor. Repeat. We have a survivor. We need an evac now,"

Raines replied. "What the hell are you whining about Westen?"

Michael infuriated, screamed into his radio. "I'm not fucking around Raines. I found A CHILD. I'm at the base of the trail about half a mile down the hill. There is no one else around here. It looks like he was hidden or has been abandoned. God knows how long he was here alone. I'm bringing him up."

Michael reached into the box to pick up the child and saw an empty baby bottle nearby. On the filthy floor next to the crate was a soft blue blanket. It was edged with smooth satin and embroidered on the thick fabric in delicate script was the name Gabriel. As the child cried, Michael leaned into the little boy and whispered, "Hi Gabriel. My name is Michael and I am here to help you." He lifted the little boy into his arms and wrapped him in the blanket. He pulled out his radio and called to Raines. "I've got him. We're on our way."


	2. Chapter 2

Monday Morning Miami

The early morning sun streamed through the windows and bathed the master bedroom with a warm light. Fiona stirred in her slumber as she rolled onto her stomach and reached instinctively across the bed. She had grown used to the pleasant sensation of waking up next to Michael in the last several months of his leave of absence from the CIA. It was a delight that she knew not to take for granted; as it had never been something she could expect to have every day. They had lived for many years with varied degrees of separation and this morning was no exception. She opened her eyes slowly to see the indent left on the pillows on his side of the bed. A wave of sadness washed over her as she let out a soft sigh. She lightly grazed her fingers across the soft white sheets. It had only been a few hours since her lover rested there.

_He woke her gently with a kiss to say goodbye. She reached out for an embrace and he held her close softly stroking her hair. _

"_Michael," she said softly. _

"_I know," he whispered with a kiss on the top of her head, "me too."_

_She soaked in the warm contentment of resting in his arms for a few minutes._

"_I'll let you know when I land," he whispered softly and kissed her once more before slipping out the door. _

_A moment later, a car door slammed and the taxi driver pulled away, whisking him off to the airport for his 5:45 AM flight. Fiona, still relaxed from the comfort of Michael's warm embrace, granted herself the luxury of falling back into a contented sleep for a few more hours. The loneliness that accompanied his absence would be there when she awoke. _

Fiona lay still, quietly contemplating the empty side of their bed. She recalled times in her life when it would not have bothered her to wake up alone. As a younger woman, she took pride in the fact that she never really needed a man. She dated them for the variety and excitement they brought to her life. While she relished the physical intimacy that relationships provided, she took care to keep her emotional distance for fear of losing her hard fought equilibrium. Raised by authoritarian parents and under the watch of five hawkeyed brothers, she swore to never give up her independence or her heart easily. Michael McBride had changed that.

Fiona reached across the bed for a small picture frame set on Michael's side table. It was his favorite photo of the two them together. A few days ago, she put it into a beautiful new frame and placed it on the mantle in the living room. He had surprised her by asking that she move it into their bedroom. Happy to oblige his request, she was reminded that underneath his stoic exterior he had a sentimental side that he revealed only to her. Michael was a deeply private person who was protective of that which he most valued. Memories of their shared past were one of those things.

She held the frame as she recalled when her sister-in-law took the photo on a chilly morning just as the two young couples were about to leave for a weekend away in the mountains of county Clare. Katie had been the first person Fiona confided in about her feelings for Michael.

"_You're in love with this one. Aren't ya?" Katie teased. They stood on the steps of Fi's flat as they watched their men load numerous suitcases into a small rental car parked across the street. _

"_Don't be daft. I barely know him." Fiona attempted to dismiss her sister-in-law's comment._

"_Well, he's practically liv'n with ya in yer flat. Ya talk about him all the time. He's an absolutely gorgeous creature. I don't understand wha seems to be the problem."_

"_Nuthin. That's wha's so crazy. It's all been so fast and so easy."_

"_So why are you expecting it all to go wrong?" _

"_I know Katie, that's just it. Now that I've met Michael McBride, I can't imagine my life without him."_

"_You Glenanne's are all alike. Always looking out far the sky to fall."_

_Fi shot her sister-in-law a pained look._

"_There's a lot more joy to find in life if you just look out for it. It's not all sorrow." Kate gave the younger woman a gentle nudge in the arm._

_Fi conceded to her sister-in-law a faint smile but remained silent._

_Katie continued "Jus let yer self be happy FiFi."_

_Michael and Colin returned from the car to grab the last case from the base of the steps._

"_Is that everything ladies? If it's not, we might need to hire another car for the weekend," Fi's oldest brother Colin teased the women._

"_Ready ta go Fi?" Michael asked as he joined her on the staircase. _

"_Ya. I am." Fiona leaned into Michael who surprised her with a kiss. In a moment, Katie snapped a keepsake photo without the happy couple even noticing._

She gazed at the photo of herself with the first man she ever fell in love with so many years ago. Fiona was grateful for the waters that passed under that bridge since those days. From the distance of time, she could now savor the delicious sense of nostalgia for their early days when their tumultuous relationship was somewhat less complicated. Fiona was pulled back to the present by a quiet buzzing sound from her purse on the dresser. She rose quickly and dug to the bottom of the bag to retrieve her cell phone.

On the display screen read a simple text message:

_Landed Safely_

Fi brushed a tear away from her cheek as she chastised herself for being so sentimental. The text message was simply to let her know that Michael's flight to DC had gone smoothly. She knew she would not hear from him again, except for an occasional phone call, until after his mission was finished which might not be for several weeks. She accepted this as part of the life she had chosen with him. As much as she savored their time together, she understood there would be equal or greater amounts spent apart. But she had confidence that he would return to her, the home they created and the life they pledged to share.

Fiona strolled into the enormous walk-in closet and scanned the abundant racks of clothes before her. She pulled off a lightweight ivory suit and lifted a delicately woven scarf from a hook in the wall. She ran her finger over the strains of yarn made of various colors and textures woven together to create a unique fabric. It reminded her of the years she spent with Michael; some of them were filled with rough coarseness, while others were a fiery glitter. When knit together to made the tapestry that was their life.

She returned to the master and dropped her clothes on the bed. Turning to gaze out the window, she admired their backyard filled with colorful plants and surrounded by the tall wooden fence that Michael had built by hand. Her melancholy receded as she recalled the sweetness of their parting that morning. She felt deeply grateful for everything they had in their current life. It was so very different now, grounded in a solid foundation built over the years they spent together in Miami.

Fiona walked slowly in to the bathroom and slipped into the large tiled shower. She turned on the shower spray to full blast and let the hot water caress her body. She smiled to herself when she recalled that those years were not without conflict. When they reunited, she struggled with the matter of whether or not he could offer her a place in his life while pursuing the people who burned him. Over the course of those years, she learned to maintain a level of independence and while supporting him on his journey. The question was: how much of her own needs was she willing to comprise in order to be with Michael? The crisis point arrived when she turned herself in to the FBI to force Michael to reveal his hand to the CIA about the Fullerton blackmail scheme.

As Fi stepped out of the shower, the cool air sent a chill down her spine. It was still difficult for her to think of her four months of incarceration in a federal prison. Yet it was a sacrifice she made to protect the man she loved, and in the end they had succeeded. Fiona endured the long period of isolation, and the CIA, with Michael's help, captured Anson Fullerton. They had made it across the abyss; both damaged by the experience, but they arrived together.

She wrapped a warm towel around her body and walked back to the bedroom. The feeling of loneliness that she woke with had all but dissipated. She reached to the side table beside the bed and picked up a smooth white shell. She had found it while on the beach with Michael during her first few blissful days of freedom. When she was released, Michael took her from the prison gates and spirited her away to a resort on an out-of-the-way island of the Keys. They stayed in a secluded bungalow surrounded by nothing but blue water and sand.

"_I hope you don't mind that it's so quiet here Fi. There aren't many people around. I just need to have you all to myself for a while."_

"_No, Michael. It's perfect."_

_He led her into the huge master bedroom with the spectacular waterfront view and closed the door behind them. Their reunion was slow, sweet and joyous. They fell under a delightful spell of hands seeking and finding, wet lips pressed to hot flesh, and bodies melding into one. And then they slept. When they awoke to find the same aching void that only the other could fill, they made love again. Fiona recalled that sometime on the first day they stopped to eat some yogurt. She was not sure who decided it would be more fun to eat it off of each other. So they showered together and made love again. Then they slept some more. Fi could not remember if they left the bed for more than a few minutes at a time for almost three days. _

_On the second night she was reunited with her lover, Fiona laid with her head resting on Michael's chest listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. She dosed off briefly and then woke up startled, unaware of her surroundings. She reached for Michael, digging her fingernails into his arm, clinging to him as if she were falling. _

"_Hey, Hey, you're alright. I'm here Fi," he said shaking her slightly to break the trance that held her captive. _

_Fiona scanned the room around her as the memory of the previous day returned. She looked at Michael, with terror in her eyes. _

"_I thought I was…" she whispered._

_The weight of the stress and loneliness from the previous four months began to crash down__ on her like thundering flood waters bursting through a weakened dam. Fiona's chest tightened as a sob caught in her throat. She turned away from Michael as she gasped for a breath. He pulled her close, enveloping her in his strong arms and resting her head on the crook of his shoulder. _

"_I'm right here," he whispered softly stroking her hair. He did not seem to be startled by her sudden tears, as if he knew this moment would find them eventually._

"_Michael," she said as the hot tears rolled down her cheeks. _

"_I know." He kissed her on the forehead. "It's OK. You're not alone anymore." _

"_I missed you so much." The words barely escaped her tightened throat._

"_I know," he stroked her back gently as she cried softly in him arms, "me too."_

_Neither of them spoke for several minutes until the last of the soft sobs faded. Fiona took a long sip of water from a bottle on the side table and then offered it to him._

"_Michael, I need to tell you something," she began._

"_What is it Fi?" He pulled her back into an embrace._

"_I know that I would be fine on my own. But I want to be with you. I need you Michael."_

"_Fi, I'm not going to anywhere. I won't lose you again."_

"_No, that's not what I mean. Michael. I need for us to be… us again. You and me. No clients, no CIA. Just us. "_

"_Fi, I have already..."_

"_I'm not asking you to resign. I understand that your work is important…"_

"_They gave me three months, paid, no questions asked. I can extend up to three more after that." He paused to read her expression. "How does that work for you?"_

_A wide smile spread across her face._

"_That's really good." She turned her head and kissed him softly. Michael held her in his arms until she fell into a deep contented sleep._

Fi was pulled out of her daydream by another chiming from her purse. She reached into her bag and grabbed her phone.

The screen read:

_Are we still on for breakfast? Carlito's 9:00 am._

She typed a reply:

_Yes. Thanks for meeting before your trip Worried all weekend. _She grabbed her car keys and purse from the dresser as she headed out the door.

#####

A soft ocean breeze cooled the humid Miami morning as Fiona sat down at their favorite table on the patio of Carlito's. She smiled when she saw her friend enter through the back door of the restaurant.

"How are you doing Fi?" Jesse kissed her softly on the cheek as he took a seat next to her at the small table.

"I'm fine." She sipped her iced tea. "How are you?"

"Great." He glanced over at the waiter standing nearby and pointed at her glass. "We'll take one more here please."

The waiter set down the breakfast menus and glasses of water for the table.

"Has Michael left for DC yet?"

"Yes, this morning. I got a text from him when he arrived about an hour ago. When do you fly out?"

"Not until this afternoon. I have a client meeting and a business dinner tomorrow in New York City."

"Manhattan is lovely this time of year," Fi said wistfully.

"Fi, I know you're a big girl. But… are you OK with Michael being away? It seems like you guys were just getting settled in with the new house and everything."

"Ah Jesse, you're a love for asking. But really ...don't worry about me. I am used to Michael running off on his trips with the CIA. I've got plenty here to keep me busy."

"Well if you're looking for work there could be an opportunity through Securi Corp. We have an affiliate that has freelance…ah… training positions…. that they need to fill. Someone with your unique skill set has a lot to bring to the table."

"I'm flattered." She smiled and took another sip of iced tea. "But I need to stay off the FBI's radar for a while. Actually, I've been thinking about going back to university."

"Seriously! Where did you go?"

"I was in my second year at Queen's in Belfast when I left. I was half way through my Chemical engineering course." She smiled at Jesse's shocked expression across the table. "I was recruited back then for my unique skill set." She laughed.

"Well, let me know if you need any reference letters," he teased.

Her faced turned serious. "Speaking of Belfast, what did you hear from them? I haven't gotten any news in weeks."

"We lost access to the network last week since your nephew finished up his coursework at the university. We'd been piggybacking off their system to send the encrypted messages. So we had to establish a brand new protocol. Seamus will be able to email you directly in a few weeks. But you'll still need to use the laptop I gave you to check the account. OK?

He handed her a print out. "This is what came from Seamus's old account. You got the voicemail I left when it arrived on Friday night?"

"Yes, I did. Thanks. I was worried all weekend but with Michael about to leave, I didn't think I could take any bad news." She accepted the white sheet of paper from Jesse's hand with a slight hesitation. She read it silently as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

_Dillon Thomas – eyes clear and breathing strong Surgery successful – awaiting further treatments Miami in Winter- Can I see you?_

Jesse learned forward in his seat. "It's all good news isn't it?"

"Yes," she dabbed her teary eyes with a napkin. "Thank God it is." She smiled across the table at her friend and began to explain the meaning of the message. "The first line is about my older brother Sean's son. The baby was born premature at 29 weeks. The doctors told them there was a risk he would be blind but they wouldn't know right away. It seems his vision is fine and he is breathing on his own now."

"And the second line is your sister-in-law."

"Katie, Seamus's mom, has cancer that spread to her lungs. The surgery was to remove the last of the tumor. They probably want to give her time to recover before continuing the radiation."

"And your nephew wants to come to Miami. Is that a good idea?" Jesse asked.

"That's what he's asking? I don't know. It might be too risky." Her faced reflected the concern in her voice.

"No, I can coordinate it with him," he said reassuringly.

"Just make sure I get a warning so I have time to tell Michael."

"You mean he still doesn't know that you are in communication with your family." He nearly choked on his sip of iced tea.

"What's there to tell Jesse? It would just drive him mad that there is a problem somewhere that he doesn't have the power to fix."

"If you say so." Jesse took another sip from his drink. He was not about insert himself into the center of a conflict between Mike and Fi.

Fiona, eager to change the subject asked, "so what's going on with you? Is there anybody new in your life?"

"Anybody new? Ah.. no. Not exactly. Well, there is someone I've known for a while but it's complicated." He squirmed in his seat as if suddenly very uncomfortable. "I probably shouldn't even talk about it. It's not a big deal."

Intrigued, Fiona leaned forward in her chair with a wicked grin on her face. She wagged her finger and said, "No. No. No. You couldn't possibly think I'll let you off the hook now."

Jesse laughed as he realized that Fiona had him cornered and would not let him leave the table without giving up more details.

"We've been training together. I wanted to learn Krav Maga. She has been working with me a couple of nights a week for the past few months."

"You and Pearce!" Fi reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "That's fabulous! Well done Jesse!"

"Wait! I didn't say it was Dani." He was surprised that Fi's guess was spot on.

"You didn't have to. She told me that she'd spent a year in Tel Aviv training with Massad. She's an expert as well an instructor for the CIA in hand-to-hand combat." She smiled at him coyly. "But you knew all that didn't you Jesse?"

He was unable to hold back a wide grin. "Yeah, she's an excellent teacher."

"She and Michael may have had their differences but she was good to me during the whole Anson…nightmare. Without her help, who knows if I'd still be locked up?"

Jesse nodded as he held his best poker face. Dani had been one of the few people allowed to visit Fi when she was first held by the FBI. The CIA agent had expressed to him concern for his good friend and the impact that solitary confinement had on Fiona. He knew that the two women had become close over the course of several months.

"I consider her to be a good friend."

"I know that she would say the same thing."

"You two deserve each other. I mean that in the best way."

"There is nothing serious happening. We just work out together. We're friends."

"You're joking right. You're trying to tell me that you wouldn't want anything more?"

"No, I mean. Yes. I want more…but it's complicated." Jesse's face grew flush.

Fiona laughed. "Yes, and so were Michael and I. It took us too many years to finally figure out how to be happy."

She reached across the table and rested her tiny hand on his arm. "I don't want to insert my opinion where it is not welcome. But allow me to say this one time and I'll never bring it up again."

Jesse met Fiona's gaze and nodded.

"Don't wait on this, Jesse. She could be the best thing that's ever happened to you."

He blushed and looked down at his iced tea. He knew Fiona was absolutely right. But he was uncertain about his next step. He hoped his trip this afternoon might serve to clarify that for him.

"Let's order some breakfast, shall we?" Fiona smiled and passed one of the menus across the table.

########

Wednesday morning 80 miles outside of Panama City

The two CIA agents sat in the back of the van as it sped down a dirt road en route to the military base just outside Panama City. Neither man had spoken more than a few words to the other since they left the ransacked village. Both were completely at a loss on how to comfort the young child suddenly in their care. The small boy had not stopped screaming for the last thirty minutes. Raines passed a small canteen to Michael who offered the baby a sip of water. The child eagerly gulped down a mouthful and for a moment appeared content. Then he vomited all of it onto Michael's lap and began to cry again.

"Wow! That's not a good sign," Raines said somberly. "He is probably really dehydrated. You've got to calm that kid down."

"Yeah, well how the hell do we do that?" Michael questioned.

"I have no idea. My kids are in college now; I haven't dealt with anything like this in years. Besides, my wife was always better at it." Raines turned to the front of the van and yelled to the driver, "Johnny, pull over, I'm coming up front. I've got to call in to base." He patted his subordinate on the knee and said, "You've got a handle on this, right?"

Michael looked at Raines in shock. "Wait! I don't know what to do with him!" he called to his superior as the little boy continued to wail. None of his years of field experience had prepared him for a rescue mission quite like this.

The older man looked over his shoulder and said sarcastically, "You can call your mother for all I care. Just quiet him down. I have to report in to DC on the nightmare we just witnessed back in his village. Which would _you_ rather deal with Westen? "

"We'll be fine back here sir."

"Good," as Raines jumped out of the back of van and slammed the door closed behind him.

When Michael felt the motion of the van rolling again, he knew he was on his own. He stared down at the tear stained face of the little boy. "I'm sorry buddy," he said softly and lightly brushed his hand over the child's his sweaty forehead. It was obvious to Michael that the little boy was terrified but consoling a crying toddler was beyond the range of his training. The only person he knew well that was knowledgeable about kids was his Mom who was several hundred miles away. "Well, maybe Raines had the right idea," as he pulled out a satellite phone from his pack and began to dial the familiar phone number. It was against protocol to use CIA communication equipment for personal use but under the circumstances his boss would not object.

######

As Madeline sat down to lunch with Fiona, she heard a dull vibrating sound from somewhere in the kitchen. She set the salad plates on the dining room table and stepped quickly to catch her cell phone before it rattled off the edge of the counter. She was surprised to see an unidentified number appear on the display. When she answered, she was absolutely stunned to hear her oldest son's voice.

"Mom."

"Michael, is that you? Are you OK?"

A look of anticipation appeared on Fiona's face. "Is that?"

Maddie nodded and said, "I'm with Fiona dear. Here, I'll let her talk to you." She quickly passed the phone across the table.

"Michael? Where are you? No wait, you can't tell me." She had a hard time containing her nervous excitement. "We weren't expecting to hear from you so soon. Are you coming home?"

"Fi, is my Mom still there? I am in a bind and I need her help," he said brusquely. The sound of the boy's wails echoed in the background as Gabriel thrashed in his arms.

"Michael, what's wrong? Is that a baby crying?"

"Put me on speaker and I'll talk to both of you, just get my Mom."

Fiona looked at Maddie with disappointment and placed the phone on the table.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Madeline asked.

"What do you do to get Charlie to stop crying? When you babysit him, how do you calm him down?"

Maddie looked at Fiona in bewilderment. "A baby, Michael?" she questioned as the cries of the young boy could be heard clearly over the phone.

"I'll explain the details later. Just tell me what to do!"

"Well, it depends on what he needs or has upset him. Are you with the child's mother?

"We don't know where she is. She may have been killed."

"Michael, what happened?" Fi interrupted.

"I can't tell you where we are. But there was a meet with an asset in a remote village that went bad. By the time we got there the worst of the attack was over. There were multiple civilians killed." He paused for a moment as the memory of the corpses flashed in his mind. "We took fire. It's still unclear who they were but when we searched the surrounding area we found a child. He was probably hidden during the attack. By the time we got to him, he had been all alone for about a day."

"Oh, that poor thing," Maddie gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"I think he's Charlie's age, maybe two or three years old. He's been screaming his head off and I can't get him to stop. He's dehydrated and… I don't know…"

"It's OK Michael. We can talk you through this. Just relax. It will help both of you." Maddie said calmly.

Fi leaned towards the phone. "Michael, are you wearing your helmet or flack jacket?"

"I am. Why?"

"If it's safe for you, take them off. You're probably scaring the hell out of him."

Maddie chimed in, "She's right, do you remember the time Charlie was afraid when you wore your sunglasses."

"Ma, Charlie screams whenever I come within five feet of him," as the child continued to bellow.

"Do you want our help or not Michael?" snapped Madeline.

"Yes."

"Then do what we tell you," she sniped back.

Michael set down the phone and shifted the child in his lap as he took off the protective gear. "Alright, what should I do next?" he asked in a calm voice. The toddler's cries grew softer.

"Hold him so he's facing you. Smile at him."

He turned the boy in his lap so they could look each other in the eye. Gabriel immediately reached up and grabbed the sunglasses from Michael's face.

"OK, the sunglasses are gone," he laughed. To his amazement, the baby stopped crying and turned the glasses over in his chubby little hands. Gabriel opened and closed the frames with curiosity at the strange object.

"There you go, you like those. They're really cool right?" he whispered to the little boy.

The child returned his gaze and smiled up at him. The two of them locked eyes as Michael gently wiped a tiny tear off the boy's soft cheek. He was startled to recognize the exact same color blue that he saw every morning in the mirror. Suddenly, Michael felt something pop in his chest as if he had pulled a muscle. He rubbed hard at his sternum and took several deep breaths until the pain subsided. "That was weird," as returned his attention to the phone still in his hand.

"Ma! Are you still there?"

"Yes, honey, we're still here."

A moment later, the baby let out a mournful cry and buried his face into Michael's shoulder.

"He's crying again. What did I do wrong?"

"Keep talking to him Michael." Maddie said calmly. "Do you have anything to wrap him in?"

"Yeah, I have something here." Michael pulled out the tattered blue blanket and wrapped it around the wriggling little body.

"Now hold him to your chest and rock him a little," Maddie continued.

"He keeps fighting me, he doesn't like it." The little boy cried as he pushed against Michael's chest.

"Just try to stay calm. Talk to him."

"I don't speak Spanish," he shouted in frustration.

"Oh for god's sake, Michael, he doesn't care. It's about the sound of your voice," Maddie blasted back.

"Okay, Okay, What should say?"

Fi jumped in. "Te quiero. Su seguro ahora."

"What does the mean?

"It means that he is loved and he is safe?" Maddie replied.

"But..." he stammered.

"It doesn't matter that it took you twelve years to tell me that Michael. He's a baby. He won't hold it over your head if you change your mind," Fi quipped.

"Fiona!" he shouted as the child screamed louder.

"Just try it honey," Maddie said.

For the next ten minutes, the two women listened in amazement as Michael crooned gently to the child. Fiona could swear she heard him singing in Russian, a song she did not recognize. Gradually, the child's tiny sobs lessened as Michael hummed the soft melody into the phone.

As the last muffled cry fell silent, Michael whispered, "I think he just fell asleep. I'll call you when I get back to base." He paused for a moment, "Thanks for your help," and he hung up before they had time to respond.

Fiona looked at Maddie in disbelief.

The older woman smiled back and said, "That boy of mine… he is full of surprises." She stood up and strolled into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of scotch from the cabinet. "Why don't I pour us a little drink?"

Fi, still in shock, could only manage to nod her head.

#######

The Panamanian military base was located about ten miles outside of the capital. Within the complex was housed a small contingent of US marines and CIA officers assigned to provide support to the American embassy. In exchange for cooperation and access to the larger facility, a small hospital was managed and staffed by US personnel.

As the van pulled up in front of the hospital wing of the base, Michael was relieved to be back in secure surroundings. He slowly climbed out, careful not to disturb Gabriel who was still asleep in his arms. He found two paramedics standing by with a stretcher ready to attend the tiny new arrival. A young woman in a military uniform took Gabriel and gently placed him on the gurney. The toddler immediate woke up and began to cry. Michael placed his hand lightly on the child's chest to comfort him as he addressed the medical personnel.

"His name is Gabriel. His family is missing and possibly killed during a raid on his village. He was left unattended, likely without food or water for the last 24 hours. We found him about two hours ago. Since then he hasn't been able to keep down any fluids."

The medic nodded, "We'll take care of him. Don't worry," as she leaned into the stretcher and pushed it through the entrance doors.

Michael felt strangely anxious as he watched the doors swing closed. His mind swirled with questions about the plight of the helpless child. Was his family even still alive to come claim him? If not, was there anyone in his life to look after him now? Would he end up an orphan in some sterile, state run institution? All these thoughts dissipated quickly as Raines shouted from behind him, "Westen, what the hell you are waiting for? We need you in debrief!" He glanced over his shoulder and stepped quickly to catch up to the colleagues.

######

Half an hour later, Michael and the other team members were dismissed from the meeting. It had begun calmly with Michael recounting the exchange of fire upon entering the village and the extensive search afterwards. No one at the meeting asked follow up questions about the well being of the child rescued at the site. After Michael finished his report, he watched Raines, his senior agent, field a barrage of questions from his own superiors. The panel's inquiries were peppered with colorful phrases like "amateur night", "cluster f**k" and "a serious miscalculation of risk."

Since he had not been part of the planning phase of the ill fated meet, Michael was not in the line of fire of the supervising agents. Raines, his superior, and three other intelligence officers who had established and developed the relationship with the contact all took a turn in the hot seat. The massacre in the village could have a serious negative impact on the CIA's relationship with the Panamanian government. The events of that morning might jeopardize their alliance with the military base that hosted them. In addition, their best source for information about the Elizabeth Albright kidnapping had vanished. It remained unclear if the raid was in retaliation for Alvarez's collaboration with the Americans or a vendetta related to the gang war with La Vega. Tempers flared until it became clear that Raines was going to take it on the chin for the botched mission.

"Let these guys go and we'll wrap this up in my office. Shall we gentlemen," Raines said confidently as he gathered the papers spread out before him.

He nodded at Michael and the other team members who rose from their seats and silently slipped out the office door. As he walked away from the meeting, Michael wondered how he could have forgotten about one of the most unpleasant aspects of working for the CIA. When a mission went south there always had to be someone to blame. Even if there was enough to go around or circumstances were out of one's direct control, culpability had to fall somewhere.

The leadership attribute that Michael admired most in Raines also served to instill a deeply loyalty from those who worked for him. He never threw a subordinate under the bus. Any reprimand was done privately, by him. When it came down to it, he was in charge; so he alone was responsible for the actions and outcomes of his team. He would shoulder any consequence of failed missions but when successful he shared the accolades. Michael was grateful to be back with the mentor that he trusted. But he also missed the independence and flexibility of his small team at home in Miami.

He pushed these thoughts out of his mind as he arrived at the hospital wing of the military base. He flashed his ID to the guard at the entrance of the emergency care unit. He pulled the soft blue blanket out of his knapsack as he walked towards the nurse's station. He had a few minutes to visit Gabriel before he needed to head back to write up another debrief report and warn Pearce, who remained in DC, about the firestorm headed in her direction. He would drop off the blanket and peek in on Gabriel to see that he was settled in with the nurses. While the hospital staff were unquestionably the best people to care for him, Michael wanted to be certain that the Gabriel finally felt safe after his long ordeal. He glanced down at the blanket again. "Kids get attached to these things. Maybe it will help."

He grabbed the attention of the nearest nurse and inquired after the whereabouts of the two-year-old brought in earlier that day. She pointed him towards an examination room down the hall. He bristled when he heard the baby's screams from a distance. His stomach tightened and his steps quickened as he approached the room. He slowly pushed open the door and saw Gabriel thrashing around on the exam table. Michael stood still for a moment unsure what to do next.

When one of the nurses noticed him she scolded, "excuse me, you can't be in here unless your medical personnel."

The doctor examining Gabriel looked up at Michael and asked in Spanish, "Are you this boy's father?"

Michael held up his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't ..."

The doctor laughed and switched to English. "Most of the staff here are American military. My Spanish could be a lot better too. I asked if you are his dad."

"No, but I was on the team that brought him in. I'm Agent Westen." He crossed the room and offered the doctor a cordial handshake. "I just came by to check in and see how he was doing."

"I'm Jack Riley." The doctor gave Michael an appreciative smile. "You said you were part of the rescue mission?"

"Yes, this morning. His name is Gabriel. He was found in a ransacked village about eighty miles outside of Panama City. Did the orderlies tell you the information I gave them?"

"Yes, we're nearly finished with the preliminary exam. I noticed some irregularity with his heartbeat that I want to examine further but he seems to be experiencing a lot of stress. If you would like stay with him for a few minutes, a familiar face might be of some comfort."

Michael said, "I'm happy to help if I can." He walked hesitantly to the table and peered down at Gabe. "Hey buddy. How are we doing?"

The boy looked up at Michael with teary eyes and lifted his arms in a request to be picked up. Instinctively, he lifted Gabriel to his chest and asked the doctor, "Could you give me a minute?"

Michael was uncertain of the best way to calm the toddler but if it had worked in the van, maybe it would work again. So he whispered quietly into the little boy's ear as they paced back and forth across the examination room. Michael remembered that his mom would sometime rub Charlie's back when he was upset. He was surprised that it had the desired calming effect and soon the little boy stopped crying.

The doctor waved to Michael to bring him back to the exam table. As soon he was set down, Gabriel began to scream again.

"We need to put in an IV drip of fluids for the dehydration. There is no way to make the procedure pleasant for him. He seems to like you so if want to stick around, it might make things go more smoothly," the doctor suggested.

"I can stay a little longer," as he took a seat in nearby chair with Gabriel in his lap.

The nurse positioned the baby's arm so they could insert the IV needle and tube. Mike held him close to his chest as the little boy squirmed and sobbed in fear. He carefully restrained him as the nurse finished securing the IV with tape on his tiny hand. Gabe fought and flailed through the whole procedure. Michael was shocked at the strength and force of the tiny body.

"Wow, this kid has some fight in him," the nurse commented as she wrestled the wriggly arm.

"Yeah, he's pretty tough isn't he?" Michael replied.

They had almost finished when the boy pulled at the IV tubing and nearly removed the apparatus from his hand. Gabriel finally succumbed to exhaustion and appeasement with a packet of saltines. Michael was relieved when the nurse finished the procedure. "Are kids always this much to handle?" he thought. Then he looked down at the toddler sitting quietly on his lap while munching on a cracker. He was struck by a sense of awe in the resilience the tiny child had displayed. He gently brushed aside the strands of dark brown hair that covered the boy's forehead. "You are going to be just fine," he said softly.

Dr. Riley returned to the exam room and noted that the IV treatment was going smoothly. He told the nurse that a room in the pediatric unit would be ready by the time it was finished.

He thanked Michael for his assistance with Gabriel. "You know it's not that uncommon for war orphans to create a strong bond with the service member that rescued them."

Michael was startled. "We don't know that he's an orphan. We still haven't found his family."

"Yes, that's true isn't it? I hope you can find them soon. In the mean time, I want to run a few more tests. There are some abnormalities I need to account for but, overall, Gabriel appears to be in good condition. I'll check on him during my evening rounds. Please let me know immediately if there are any developments on his parents."

After they doctor left, the nurse suggested that Michael stay with Gabriel for the remainder of his IV treatment because the toddler stayed very calm with Michael holding him. "It will help to keep the IV in place while he receives the full bag of saline."

"Sure. If you think it would help," he agreed with a slight hesitation.

He had always insisted that he was not good with kids but at the moment this one seemed to need him. Raines would be looking for him soon but he could check in on his cell phone until he was summoned back to the CIA offices.

"Why don't you two sit over here?" as the nurse slowly rolled the IV bag towards a comfortable looking chair next to the examination table.

"Thanks." Michael held Gabriel carefully in his arms as he walked across the room. Startled from the sudden movement, the child began to cry again.

"Oh no, maybe we should have stayed still," he commented to the nurse who smiled as she adjusted the IV monitor.

"No, you're doing great," she replied.

Michael had a natural aptitude for many things but this was not one of them. He wondered if it was this hard for other people. Perhaps, there was an inborn ability that somehow had passed him by. Gabe pressed his face into Michael's chest and let out mournful whimper. Michael remembered his mother words, "Just talk to him. Let him know he is safe."

He rested Gabe's head up on his shoulder as he spoke to the boy softly. "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere." Michael patted Gabriel's back as he repeated the phrase over and over until he heard the child breathing slowly. When the toddler dozed off, he reached into the knapsack and pulled out the blue blanket. He asked the nurse, "Would you have this laundered and brought back? I found it near his home."

The nurse nodded and thanked him. "I'll come back to check on you two in a little while."

After about ten minutes, Gabe woke up and tried several times to scoot down onto the floor. Afraid that the IV would get pulled out again, Michael held him firmly as the child fussed and protested. He glanced over at the IV bag which was drained only to about halfway. With the nurse nowhere in sight, he realized they were stuck in the chair for a while. Michael recalled that Nate would sometimes entertain Charlie with videos on his tablet computer.

"That might work," he said to himself. Michael pulled out his cell phone and slide off the back to remove a tiny memory card. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn brown leather wallet. He removed an identical memory card and slipped it into the phone. He replaced the cover and pulled up the Photo Gallery setting.

He asked the little boy, "Have you ever seen the ocean before?" as he showed him the colorful screen.

Michael was rewarded with a squeal of delight from the toddler. His fingers glided over the tiny screen to launch a display of photos taken during a recent trip to the beach with Fiona. The boy's eyes grew wide at the images as he reached out to grab the phone. Michael guided Gabe's tiny hand across the screen as they flicked through the series of beachscape pictures.

"Look, there a big sailboat. Can you say boat? "

The boy stared at him in silence.

"OK, let's try another one." He quickly switched to a gull standing atop a post on a pier.

Gabriel chirped, "Pájaro."

"Oh right. Good boy." He placed his hand on the top of the boy's soft hair. For the first time in his career, he regretted that his language training had not included Spanish.

He flicked the screen again to reveal a profile of Fiona. "There is a really beautiful girl, right? She would love to meet you."

Michael recalled the significance of the moment that he captured in the image. It was taken the night he decided to propose to Fiona.

_She stood at the edge of the dock taking in the beauty of the sunset. The light illuminated her profile and her expression was serene. She was unaware of both the camera and his loving gaze upon her. _

_He walked down the pier to her and took her hand. "Are you OK?" _

_She smiled contently and said "Yes, I am very happy." _

_She turned to kiss him and he pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her hair. "I'm glad to hear that." _

_Michael stood in silence for a moment, the love of his life enfolded in his arms; he made a promise to himself that he would work the rest of his days to keep her just as happy. As they walked slowly down the dock to the restaurant where they had dinner reservations, Michael__ pulled out his phone and texted Sam._

_CALL ME IN NEED OF A JEWELER ASAP_

Michael awoke to the sound of the nurse walking into the room. Gabe was still asleep in his arms.

"I'm going to disconnect the IV now. We have a room ready for him. You can come back tomorrow if you want to visit him."

Michael, embarrassed to have been caught nodding off while on duty, stammered, "Sure, I'll do my best to come by."

"They are going to run a few tests but everything should finished by the late morning."

Michael looked down at the sleeping child in his lap and felt an unexpected hesitation at the prospect of letting go of him.

He glanced over to the nurse and who smiled and said, "It will be okay, we've got it from here. I'm sure he'll want to see you tomorrow."

"I'll check back with the doctor then," as he stood up slowly and handed the sleeping boy to the nurse before heading out the exam room door. He walked slowly down the hall and through the doors of the hospital wing.

######

Michael had nearly walked past the US military PX store when he decided to stop. He made a quick purchase and headed back to the CIA offices. He stopped at his desk to check his voice mail and saw that he had missed a call from Pearce. He cursed silently that he had let the detail slip. He dialed her number on his desk line and got her voice mail. He pulled out his cell and sent her a text message. She responded quickly that she was in a meeting but would get back to him as soon as she could. The bad news would not change regardless if she heard it from him or Raines. Michael pulled the small bottle of whiskey from the brown bag and dropped it discreetly into an outer pocket his knapsack. He walked over to Raines's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Raines barked. He was typing furiously at his laptop with a scowl on his face. He looked up at Michael for a moment and then returned his focus to the keyboard. "Westen, unless you've got decent bottle of scotch with you, I really don't have time right now."

"I thought your drink was bourbon …" He pulled out the small bottle of Maker's Mark from his knapsack and handed it to Raines. "I brought you something for your filing cabinet." A grin spread across the man's face as he let out a belly laugh. "I always liked you, kid. Sit down."

Raines reached behind his desk to a credenza and pulled out two chunky glass tumblers. He cracked open the bottle and said, "It's been one hell of a day," as he filled several inches of bourbon into each of the glasses and handed one across the desk.

"Yes, it has sir." Michael took a small sip from the glass.

There had been a tradition during Michael's early days at the CIA to toast a successful mission with shot of whiskey. Raines would keep a bottle in his file drawer and pour a glass for each of the assembled members of the team. After working with his senior agent for several years, he discovered that Raines had a similar private tradition after an unsuccessful mission. He would close his office door pour himself a double shot. He never invited members of the team to join him. Michael's gift was meant as a sign of respect to his superior and he was grateful that Raines accepted it as such. That fact that his boss chose to share a drink after the mission today demonstrated a renewed level of trust between the two men.

The previous year had strained their professional relationship. Raines had been furious when he learned of Michael's actions with the Anson Fullerton blackmail. Pearce had intervened on several occasions when tempers flared as Raines threatened to throw Michael off the investigation and into a CIA holding facility. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and the two men were able to devise an elaborate strategy to ensnare Fullerton. They developed a complex scheme to generate fake burned spies and then feed them into Anson's covert network. In the end, their plan was successful when he was captured in a fishing vessel of the coast of Cuba. After four months of incarceration, Fiona was released from prison. Before Michael left to bring her home, Raines told him that he had been given a three month paid leave of absence, effective immediately.

"_It can be extended up to six months, if requested," said the senior agent._

"_This is not an optional assignment__, is it?" Mi__chael asked, unsure if he was actually being sacked._

"_No, it's not. But I'd hate to see the crazy shit you'd pull if we tried to fire you for a second time. So we'll be happy to have you back as soon you are ready."_

"_Thank you."_

Michael was deeply grateful to Raines for the time off and the stability it helped to generate in his new life with Fiona. He was also pleased to have been brought back into the fold at the CIA even though, at the moment, conditions were rather tumultuous. He knew well the investigation into the Albright kidnapping was riding on the generation of a new lead after the failed mission today. The responsibility for the disastrous mission and burden to find that new lead would fall squarely on Raines's shoulders. Michael did not envy his position for a moment and he wanted to reassure his mentor that he had his support and loyalty in these efforts.

Raines threw back the drink in one fluid motion as Michael took another sip from his glass.

"Hurry up Michael. You drink like a girl." Michael laughed and swallowed his glass of bourbon. He was glad that Fiona was not there to demonstrate a point that he knew to be true from personal experience; many Irish girls could drink a typical American guy under the table. He kept his thoughts to himself but accepted another shot.

"What shall we drink to, sir?" Michael said in a jovial tone.

"Stop calling me sir, would you?"

"Whatever you say!" Michael downed the shot of amber liquid and the older man followed suit.

"So Westen, I heard you've had a busy couple of months." Raines leaned back in his chair.

Michael smiled somewhat bashfully and said, "Yeah, I bought a house. I got engaged. Life is good."

Raines gasped, "Jesus, you bought a house too. You _are_ going soft on me. I heard you got engaged ... should I get you a lawn mower as a wedding present?"

"No, I have a service that comes to my house for that. But thanks for the offer." He laughed.

Raines laughed. "I'm happy for you, kid. Where did you and Fiona end up? Are you still in Miami?"

"Yeah, we bought a house a few miles from where I grew up. My mother is still there and my brother moved back from Vegas. Nate and I did a lot of the renovations together."

"Was that the side project you were doing while we were tracking down Anson?"

Michael's face grew serious. "Yes, Nate wanted to buy it as an investment. I had looked into the property a year before when Fiona wanted to rent it. It was tied up in an estate settlement so it needed some work. But it turned out to be exactly what I needed to keep myself occupied when Fiona was… away."

Raines poured another shot for himself and Michael which they threw back in unison.

"So things worked out OK?" Michael knew the question was as much about Fiona as it was about the house.

"Yeah, it took some time but we're really happy." He nodded. "She was thrilled with the choice of the house and the improvements we made. We moved some walls around, built a fence and put in new bathroom, things like that."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

"It was, but when finally moved in a few months ago, it was all worth it."

"Well, congratulations." He poured them another drink and drained the last of the contents of the bottle. "To the future Mrs. Westen."

Michael raised his glass as they drank the last shot together. Raines leaned back in his chair and dropped the empty bottle into the waste basket.

"Hey, how is that little kid we found today? What did you call him, Gabriel? Has the hospital received any information on his family?"

"He is doing as well as could be expected. He is stable. The doctor will give me update tomorrow around lunch time. I don't know of anyone who has turned up looking for him. We should send out a team tomorrow to interview the witnesses. There have got to be people returning to the village after the raid. Someone should know who he belongs to."

"Yeah, I sent a team out there late today. No one reported a missing child. We can order DNA testing on the bodies that were recovered from the village. Maybe there is some connection there. If so, we should know in a few days and then the local government can step in."

Michael bristled. "What do you mean?"

"A child welfare agency will take over just like in the States. We don't have jurisdiction or responsibility on this. He is a Panamanian citizen. He's their problem to deal with, not ours."

Michael was not sure if it was Raines's words or the alcohol had caused the wave of nausea to hit his stomach. He stood up slowly, not letting on to the fact that he was suddenly a bit dizzy.

"I should let you get back to work. Good night, Raines"

"Thanks for the drink, Westen. See you in the morning." He turned his attention back to the laptop on the surface of the desk.

Michael walked quickly out the door before Raines could see that all color had gone out of his face.

####


	3. Chapter 3

Dani Pearce walked into the crowded bistro and scanned the room looking for her lunch date. She was still not sure what to make of the last minute invitation that she received from Jesse Porter that morning, but she accepted despite her packed schedule. They had trained at her gym together over the last two months and had never shared even a cup of coffee in a public setting. Then today, out of the blue, he called to tell her that he was in DC and wanted to know if she was free for lunch. He even suggested they meet at an upscale cafe near her office.

She was surprised not only by the offer but the way her heart raced as she cancelled her 12:30 appointment. "Something unexpected has come up that I need to take care of today," she told her colleague. While it was more a sin of omission than an outright lie, she felt a twinge of guilt as she hung up the phone. "Maybe this isn't a good idea," she thought. She never liked to put her private life on display to those she worked with at the CIA. But then she remembered that in DC, most of them would not know who Jesse was or anything about their previous work together.

"What's he doing in DC in the first place?" she wondered as she turned off her computer and set her phone to voicemail.

A few blocks away, Jesse sat at a table in the back of the trendy restaurant and sipped a glass of overpriced mineral water. He stared out the window as he willed the time to pass more quickly. He was simply not used to being this nervous before a date. "It's not a date, we're just going to lunch," he reminded himself. For an event so seemingly insignificant, he had cleared numerous obstacles to make it possible. And under most circumstances he had no problem bending the truth as a situation necessitated; His predicament arose from the fact that his friend had an ever greater aptitude with which she might easily catch him in the deception.

He had, in fact, been in New York for a meeting with a client yesterday just as he told Dani over the phone. There was also a short layover at Dulles airport scheduled before his connecting flight back to Miami. But there was no meeting today. He had simply skipped over the story of his bribing a secretary from his travel department with tickets to see Lady Gaga in order to obtain an overnight stop in Washington DC. When he arrived last night he stayed at a boutique hotel near the Smithsonian. He meandered through the Air and Space Museum until around eleven thirty this morning when he finally called Dani for a "last minute" lunch date. He was elated that she agreed to meet him and recognized the bistro he recommended.

Jesse checked his watch again, it was 12:20, and Dani was not due for another ten minutes. He browsed the wine list for the fifth time as he wondered again if he should order a bottle. "She probably won't drink during work hours," he thought and then set the menu aside. He looked up just in time to see Dani walk through the front door of the bistro. He watched her survey the room and was rewarded for all his effort with a smile that lit up her face when she saw him. He admired the soft feminine curves of her form that filled her dark blazer. The simple pencil skirt was enhanced by her long legs toned by her daily workouts and tanned in the Miami sun.

"Man, that woman knows how to wear a business suit," he mumbled just before Dani was within earshot. He actually felt butterflies in his stomach as his gaze followed her as she crossed the room to their table. "Get it together Porter," he chastised himself. He rose from the table and gave his companion a wide grin.

"Jesse. It's a delightful surprise to see you. What brings you to DC?" She greeted him with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Grateful to have her within arm's reach, he relished holding her for even a brief moment. "There's an opportunity that I am….exploring."

Intrigued, Dani sat down at the table and turned her attention to her lunch date. "I'd love to hear about it."

Another wide grin spread across his face, "Ah…Hah..." he laughed."It is still in the development phase but I'll tell you when I have a fully formed … strategy."

"Fair enough," she replied, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and gave him another enchanting smile.

Jesse let out an audible sigh of relief and opened the wine menu. "Would you like to order a bottle?" he asked with a slight reluctance in his voice.

"I'd have to say no, since I am going back to the office later, but maybe I'll have a glass," as she took the menu and glanced at the selection. "I'll try the Chardonnay." She relaxed back into her seat and continued, "This place is great by the way, thanks for suggesting it."

"My pleasure," he smiled as he waved for the waiter to come over to take their drink order.

####

Dani and Jesse were enjoying lighthearted conversation and a delicious meal when her cell rang for the third time. He was in the middle of telling a tale of a night out with a group of Army buddies on Okinawa. "So we were on our fifth round of saki when my buddy Jason decided, stupidly, that he could take on this giant sumo wrestler looking guy…" He glanced down at her purse that was audibly buzzing again. He could tell she was anxious to check the phone but for whatever the reason had not done so. "Dani, it's OK," he reassured her as he pointed to her bag, "I understand you're in the middle of your work day."

"I'm sorry," she said as she pulled the phone out and glanced down at the number on the display. She recognized it was from Michael Westen. "I'll need to take this." She excused herself from the table and found a private corner in a hallway that led towards the kitchen.

She read the first text message:

"Mission went sideways. More info to come."

"In a meeting, Can we talk later?" she tapped onto the screen of the phone.

"Call this number when you are available," Westen replied immediately.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad."

"Understood. Talk to you in an hour."

"Thanks."

Dani tucked her phone into the pocket of her blazer and she stepped into the ladies' room for privacy. "Damn, Damn, Damn," she cursed as closed the door behind her. She was having a good time with Jesse, a really good time, even more than she had expected. And now she needed to cut short their lunch well before she wanted it to end. She pulled a lipstick out of her handbag and reapplied the light rose tinted gloss. "What the hell am I thinking?" she chastised herself. She rarely preened for the men in her life, the few that had come and gone since Jay's death. Dani had never been with anyone besides Jay that she knew through the CIA. For many years now, she held herself to strict boundaries to separate her professional and private. This man, however, made those lines blurry but in the most delightful way.

Several weeks after the mission to bring down Anson Fullerton was resolved, she received an email from Jesse requesting a recommendation for a training program on Krav Maga. She was absolutely thrilled to hear from him and acknowledged to herself that she had genuinely missed his company since their case had finished. She volunteered to teach him the basics of the fighting style and introduced him at the school where she occasionally taught classes. And for the last two months they had been engaged in delightful sparring routine, both mental and physical. Jesse was handsome and well built to be sure. Yet he was also extremely intelligent without the pretentiousness of so many men she knew in the CIA. Most importantly, he so easy to be with and could make her laugh. It had been so long since anyone in her life had done that. She enjoyed their time together more than any relationship she had since the days of her courtship with Jay so many years ago. If she did not know better, she would have said she was in love with Jesse Porter.

She had to remind herself that a serious relationship with someone else in her line of work was a bad idea. Neither one of them wanted to have their personal lives scrutinized and intruded upon by the prying eyes of the CIA. And there were so many risks and complications. Trust in a relationship was difficult enough to develop and nearly impossible for two people that kept secrets for a living. She had accepted these truths and so had Jesse, or so she thought, until today when he showed up in Washington DC during the middle of her work day to take her out to lunch. Maybe he saw their friendship as something different. Perhaps she could too. And now she would have to leave before she uncovered his true intentions for the visit.

"Damn, Damn," she cursed at the gods of incredibly bad timing. She took a deep breath and brushed her hair behind her ears, momentarily satisfied with her appearance. If she had known she was having lunch with Jesse she would have worn a better fitting suit. She continued to chide herself as she stepped back into the hallway.

She walked back to the table and smiled at Jesse when he stood up to push her chair in for her.

"Thank you," she acknowledged the gesture of gentlemanly polish.

He returned to his chair and asked, "everything OK?" He could see the change in her body language that indicated she was anxious about something.

"Yes, its fine." She tried to put off his question.

He gave her a look that told her in a glance, "it's OK, you don't have to pretend with me."

"A mission went south. I'll need to leave in a few minutes." She looked down at her plate and took a bite of her salad; she hoped she was able to hide the disappointment on her face.

"I understand," as he took another sip of wine. "This is the one with Westen?"

She nodded and took another forkful of food. They both knew that they were not supposed to talk openly about her work but neither had reservations about confiding in each other.

"You two doing OK? He seemed really excited about getting back to work."

"So far. I've got a lot riding on this one." She had not yet told Jesse about the kidnapped journalist or her friendship with the woman's fiancé.

"Well, Mike's a good agent and we both know that he is relentless when he sets his mind to an objective."

"Yeah, and that can be his Achilles'heel."

"You still haven't let that go," Jesse said in surprise. "Dani, how are you going to work with him if you haven't buried the hatchet?"

"I know Jesse, you're right. And Michael's your friend."

"So what's the deal?"

"I still don't trust him yet. It's that simple. He is too willing to put other people at risk, even those closest to him."

"Dani, you pulled his ass out the fire a dozen times when we were going after Anson. All those times Raines threatened to send him to Guantanamo."

"He wouldn't have really sent him," she laughed. "He was just trying to scare him. Besides, there is more to it than that. You and I both know it."

"You still think he's a shithead for what he did to Fiona."

"Fi is my friend. I can admit that I developed a … unique and slightly one-sided perspective on their situation. That doesn't change the fact that she went to jail... for a long time… to protect him."

"And that it's not going to interfere with the assignment you brought him back in to work on with you."

Dani did not appreciate Jesse pointing out the flaws in her reasoning. "I know what you're going to say Jesse," she replied, annoyed. "I shouldn't let my personal feelings cloud my judgment. But that's not what I'm doing. This mission, there is a connection, a similarity to what he has been through and I need him to bring all of it to this case, the good and the bad."

"But if this is just about them. I mean, they are really happy now. You know that, right? They got engaged. They got the house." Jesse found himself getting defensive of his friend.

"Yes, I do. And I'm glad for them. But I just don't understand..."

"Understand what?" he questioned, genuinely confused by Dani's revelation.

"How she could stand for it so long? I just wouldn't want that kind of relationship for myself, so much conflict and drama." She looked at Jesse and hoped he understood that her comment was about her needs not a just a gossipy critique of their friends back in Florida.

"No drama?" he said flatly. "Good to know."

"I need to know I can trust the person that I am with," she said softly.

"No secrets?" He stared her straight in the eye until he could see the color rise in Dani's cheeks.

"That's kind of tough in our line of work, isn't it?"

"Dani, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked with dread in her voice.

"I didn't have a meeting in DC today?"

"Then why were you here? Was your flight delayed?" Her brow furrowed with confusion.

"Well sort of, see I …I flew in from New York yesterday and stayed in some crappy hotel last night. And I wandered around a museum looking at airplanes all morning until I finally worked up the nerve to call to ask you out to lunch."

Dani had to hold back a laugh and almost replied, "Is that all?" But she was not sure if she should be angry at his dishonesty or flattered by the over the top gesture to spend time with her. She silently determined that both emotions were appropriate and bit the inside of her lip to hide her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. How could any man be so foolish and charming at the same time?

"Is there anything else you lied about Jesse?" she asked with a chilling coolness in her voice.

"No." Jesse was contrite.

"Okay. Please don't do it again." She glanced up at him with softness in her eyes that told him she had forgiven his lapse in judgment.

"Which? Lying or asking you out? He smiled optimistically.

"I'd say no to deceptions and yes to last minute plans," she returned the hint of a smile.

"Would you?" he asked with a delightful arch of an eyebrow.

"Yes." She took a sip of her wine.

They both stared at each other for a moment not sure who should speak next. Dani succumbed to the tension that gnawed at the pit of her stomach and choose to break the silence.

"I really need to get back to the office." She stood up quickly and began to gather her coat and bag

"Hold Up. Hold up." He tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table and pulled his jacket off the back of the chair. "I want to … I mean… May I walk you back to your office?"

"Yes, I'd like that that," she nodded.

He helped her to slip on her coat and motioned to the waiter at the cash he left on the table to cover the check. He thanked the hostess for the wonderful service before they stepped out the front door of the restaurant. The noise from the traffic on the busy street swirled around them as Jesse held out his elbow for a brief moment. Dani slid her arm through his without saying a word and they walked in silence for a few blocks. They slowly acclimated to newly deepened intimacy between them and she felt the tension fall away from her shoulders.

Jesse long strides slowed just slightly to keep pace with hers as their footfalls synchronized. Dani decided in that moment that she liked the way it felt when they moved together. She glanced up to see a relaxed smile on his face that led her to believe that he might agree. She recalled their coordinated movements when sparring. When they finished their workouts, sweaty and panting, they would tease and laugh together as they collapsed onto the mats. And now they walked as a couple their bodies, side by side, flowed in a coordinated and rhythmic motion. "I wonder what else we could do together that would feel this good," she asked herself. Dani's thoughts were about to take an interesting course when Jesse stopped about half a block away from her office.

He turned to face her and said, "So if I asked you to join me for dinner on Saturday night?"

"I would say yes."

He stared intensely at Dani, not sure if he should kiss her.

She reached for his hand and held it for a brief moment. Jesse took his cue and he leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips.

"Thank you for lunch," she whispered.

He pulled away slowly and took a few steps backwards. If she stayed a few minutes longer, he would end up canceling his flight home to spend another night in DC. "I'll see you in Miami," he replied. Then he watched Dani walk down the block and turn to join a small crowd of people as they headed into the tall gray office building.


	4. Chapter 4

US Embassy Panama City- Wednesday Afternoon

The Ambassador sat down on his desk and leaned back in his black leather executive chair.

"Yes. I understand Bill. I'm sorry to see him leave, especially under these circumstances. He's been an indispensible resource to my team in the last year."

The grey haired man let out a sigh as he tapped the end button on his desk phone and then hit the intercom to speak to his assistant. "Darlene, get me Pasqual Camacho."

A few minutes later, an anxious looking young man entered the office. "Good afternoon Ambassador Richardson."

"Come in Pasqual." He stood up to accept the handshake his subordinate offered to him. "Good to see you." He gestured to a nearby armchair. "Sit down."

"Thank you, sir." The handsome dark haired man sat down nervously as he watched his superior. "Have there been any updates?" he asked.

"There is nothing new to report since this morning." The Ambassador scanned the features of the young man before him. "You look like you haven't sleep in days." He shuffled a small pile of papers on the desk for a moment. "I know this last week has been difficult for you." He glanced up briefly, "since Elizabeth…"

The young man fidgeted in his seat. "I'm fine sir. Really," as he rubbed his eyes.

Richardson picked up a tennis ball from the corner of his desktop and began to squeeze it. As he flexed his hand the rubber collapsed and then popped out again in a rhythmic motion. "Perhaps you should to take a break for a few days. Get some rest."

"No!" Pasqual snapped. "I can't!" He caught himself before he continued. "I am waiting to hear back from a contact, the one I told you about yesterday. He might have something on the informant Elizabeth was meeting last Friday."

"That's good." The older man nodded. "We'll see what we can do with that." He turned to look the window for a moment.

Pasqual saw a change in expression on the face of his supervisor and asked nervously, "What's the matter?"

"I spoke with Raines."

"Oh." His face fell as if he knew that bad news was to come.

The older man turned back to the young agent across the desk. ""Mr. Camacho, I am very sorry to inform you that have been removed from your assignment at this Embassy by your supervisors at the CIA."

"He's pulling me out." Pasqual nearly jumped out of his chair. "They can't do that. Ellie's still missing. I can't stop looking…"

The Ambassador shook his head in sympathy. "It was determined that the best course of action for all parties involved that the investigation into Elizabeth's kidnapping be lead by MI6. Elizabeth is a British national so they have jurisdiction and will coordinate the search with the local police. And in light of recent developments, I agree with the decision."

"Is it because of the raid on that village this morning?"

"Yes, that played a role but that's not..."

Pasqual interrupted. "We don't know that the raid had anything to do with her kidnapping! These cartels were dealing with have a thousand reasons for retaliation against each other. It could have been for something else."

"I disagree with your assertion. There were half a dozen civilians massacre today. Gunfire was exchanged between the guerrillas and the CIA agents at the site. The reason for the attack is now insignificant compared to the vulnerable position the CIA is in because of it."

"I understand sir."

"Do you really? Because it appears to me that your fiancé is in even greater danger. Each day that passes the CIA is being drawn in deeper and deeper into a feud between cartels. We still don't know which if La Vega or Guierro ordered the attack or whose side we just antagonized."

"But the CIA is responsible for her!" Pasqual shouted.

"And that is NOT something we want broadcasted to the cartels now is it? I cannot place this Embassy, my staff and the other assets stationed here to unnecessary risk."

The young man appeared crestfallen as the weight of the Ambassador's words caused his shoulders to slump.

"Pasqual, I value the work you've done here over for the last twelve months. Not many covert agents take the responsibilities of their cover jobs as seriously as you did."

"Thank you, sir."

"If, in the future, you want to transfer to the State department you'll have my full support. From what I have seen you would have a promising career in the foreign service, just like your father."

The young man dropped his gaze to the floor. "I've always tried to establish my reputation on my own merits."

"While I think that is admirable, the incident with Anders Williams yesterday didn't do much to help that effort," the Ambassador scolded.

Pasqual clenched his jaw. "The dispute was a personal grievance, a momentary lapse…"

"It is clear that it will be difficult for you to continue with the investigation in your current frame of mind."

"No. I need to keep looking. We still don't know..."

The older man ignored the statement. "Raines wants you to report to a safe house." He handed Pasqual a slip of paper with an address. "There's a blue pick-up truck parked across the road. Marco, a member of my security staff, will take you there now."

"Mr. Ambassador, please…"

Richardson was unaffected by impassioned pleas of the young agent. "You are to stay there until you receive further instructions from your supervisors. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear sir," he conceded gritting his teeth as he rose to his feet.

"All of the resources of this Embassy will be brought to bear on the effort to find Elizabeth. You have my word."

"Thank you, sir. It has been an honor to serve with you."

"Good day Mr. Camacho."

#######

CIA Headquarter: Washington DC

Dani Pearse slammed her office door shut. She returned over an hour ago from her lunch with Jesse Porter, an unexpected and delightful surprise, only to find several crises that demanded her immediate attention. She attended a conference call with Raines and the leadership team to devise a strategy to regroup from the botched mission this morning. Now, she had a more personal matter to attend. She picked up her desk phone and furiously dialed. "He's lucky he's still in Panama" she mumbled under her breath, "or I'd kick his ass."

"Hola." A faint voice sounded on the other end of the line.

"Pasqual!" she scowled.

"Agent Pearce?" asked the startled young man.

"Are you at the safe house yet?"

"Yeah, I just got here. This place is a dump," he huffed like a bratty teenager.

"Well, next time you go into hiding out from the drug cartels, we'll book you at the Four Seasons." Dani spun around in her desk chair and powered up her laptop computer on her desk.

"I'm looking forward to it," he teased.

"And don't get any ideas about disappearing on me," she continued the scolding, "or I'll come down there and drag you back to Miami myself."

"What makes you think I would go rogue?"

"Your behavior in the last twenty four hours has caused me to question your judgment at the moment."

"Oh that," he scoffed. "Anders Williams is a pretty boy desk jockey!"

"You assaulted your handler!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"He has been a pain in my ass since I got to Panama."

"You broke his nose! Are you trying to get yourself fired from the CIA?"

"He's been looking for a reason to send me home ..."

"Well congratulations, Pasqual, you just gave him one," she yelled again.

"It doesn't matter anyway. You know Raines pulled from the Embassy."

"Of course he did, your cover has been blown."

"We don't know that for sure."

"And how exactly would you like it to be confirmed? When you find hit squad outside your apartment?"

"There is no indication that the kidnappers discovered my connection to the Agency. They contacted Ellie's boss at the BBC last week. Not the Ambassador. Not the CIA.

"That's irrelevant now. Our presence at that village this morning practically announced CIA involvement in the investigation. We lost our only asset that claimed to have a lead on Elizabeth's location."

"I still have contacts Dani. These people can find the guy she was supposed to meet last Friday but they're not going to talk to some MI6 agent."

"Paz, you're not safe and you know it," she said with irritation returning to her voice. "Whoever took Elizabeth could come after you next even if they don't know you're with the Agency."

"So now what? I'm cut off. You want me to watch from the sidelines."

Dani pulled at the pendant of her necklace as she tried to maintain her temper with the determined young man. "You need to be reasonable. MI6 have their best people on it. We're sending in someone..."

"I don't give a shit. I need to find Ellie!" he yelled.

"Dam it Pasqual!" she shouted back unable to restrain her frustration. "You won't be able to help to her if YOU end up with a bullet in your back!"

"Dani." he gasped. He was well aware of the impact of his verbal misstep.

"What!" she snapped.

"I mean… ah… Agent Pearse. I'm sorry," His toned returned to the formality appropriate to address a senior agent. "I was out of line. I apologize the way I spoke to you a moment ago and for my behavior with Agent Williams."

"It's OK..." as she cleared her throat. "But I need you to sit tight at the safe house, alright. I'm sending someone. He's the agent I told you about. He understands the gravity of your situation."

"You trust this guy."

"I've seen him in action many times. He'll be relentless.

"That's not what I asked."

"You'll want him with you on this. I need you to trust **me**."

"Alright," he consented. "If you say so."

"Good. He'll be there later tonight."

#######

Michael returned to his desk after a brief walk around the military wing of the compound. His head had mostly cleared of the effects of his bourbon lunch with Raines. He picked up an incoming call on his cell phone.

"Pearse. Good to talk to you. Did Raines update you on the mission this morning?"

"Yes, he did. I'm glad to hear that none of our people were injured. How's the little boy you rescued?"

"The last I checked he was recovering from dehydration but otherwise he is in stable condition."

"Well that's good news. Let me know when somebody shows up to claim him. Kids aren't left in a shed in the middle of nowhere by an accident. There must be people looking for him.

"I'll update you as soon as I hear anything."

"Well, it looks like we have a new role for you in the Albright investigation."

"Really? Raines didn't say anything about that when I was in his office half an hour ago."

"Michael, you know it's bad form to get your boss drunk in the middle of a work day," she laughed.

"Yeah well," he blushed.

"I spoke with him **after** you left his office."

"So what's the job?"

"MI6 is taking the lead now on the Albright kidnapping investigation. You'll join the investigation as a private advisor hired by the Albright family to negotiate with the hostage takers. Raines will make the introductions tomorrow morning to our contacts at the BBC and MI6.

"Why are we pulling back? Today was a set-back but …"

"The CIA needs to step out the spotlight. The raid at that village today practically announced the CIA's involvement to the cartels..

"Has anyone started back channel negotiations?"

"No, that would be too risky. We made the contact with one of Alvarez's people and look where that got us."

"Has there been any recent communication from the hostage takers?"

"Not since five days ago. They contacted Albright's boss at BBC with their demands to keep silent on her investigation into the plan to overthrow the President of Panama."

"Is there any proof of life?"

"Only a small photo mailed to the BBC Panama City bureau on Monday."

"What about the fiancée? what's his name?"

"Pasqual Camacho. He's has been working a cover as a Consular Agent at the US Embassy.

"Are the kidnappers aware of their connection with the Agency?"

"We can't say for sure but that's not a risk anyone is willing to take."

"Has Camacho been working on anything that might have tipped off the cartels?"

"He has been tracking the visa applications and travel to the US of the relatives of members of the cartels. It pretty low key surveillance. Paz's cut his teeth with several deep cover missions over the last few years. His mother died while he was away on an assignment. This rotation was basically paid time off compared to the action he saw in the field."

"What if he got bored and started working on something off book, maybe with Albright."

"I doubt it. I know that Elizabeth was reluctant to become an asset in the first place."

"He turned his fiancée as an asset."

"It's quite a story. They knew each other before he joined the CIA. About a month after he arrived in Panama City, he ran into Elizabeth in the elevator at the US Embassy. She was there with BBC to interview a member of the Ambassador's staff. She recognized him right away and almost blew his cover."

"That must have been some reunion," Michael laughed as he recalled the day when, after a six year absence, he found himself in a rundown Miami motel room with Fiona who had lovingly kicked him awake.

"He turned her as an asset about two months later. She has been conducting research on people of interest that came up during Pasqual's surveillance. They were engaged about a month ago."

"Well, if there is nothing else, I'll set up a meeting for tomorrow..."

"Actually, there is one more. I need you to bring Pasqual back to Miami for debrief…as soon as possible."

"You expect want to leave Panama while his fiancée is still missing."

"Yes."

"Where is he now?"

"He is cooling his heels at a safe house just outside the city. He assaulted a fellow agent yesterday."

"Who was that?"

"Anders Williams, his handler for the last two years."

"Did he try to bench Pasqual during the investigation?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"I could hardly blame…"

"I'm not taking any more chances. I need you to meet with him tonight. He can fill you in key players around the Embassy and help prep you for the negotiations but I want Pasqual on a plane to Miami by Friday."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Good. I'll send you the address of the safe house and his recent field reports. He'll expect you later tonight."

#####

Two hour later- 30 mile outside of Panama City

Michael Westen could not help but wonder if he had become the CIA's deadliest and most highly skilled babysitter. He was happy to watch over a vulnerable little child like Gabriel but it was something else entirely to be tasked with reining in a fellow agent. The young man would surely resent his removal from the Embassy as well as the mandate to report to Miami. Michael recalled the day when a senior agent had arrived in Ireland to collect him from a mission. He too had received orders to leave behind the woman he loved. When he fought back he quickly found himself on a flight to Pakistan nursing a sprained wrist and a broken heart. Perhaps he could help Pasqual Camacho to avoid the same fate.

The black jeep bounded down the dirt road and pulled up in front of the small cinder block house. There were no other cars out front and the only inhabitants were a half a dozen scraggly chickens pecking at the grass in the yard. Michael exited the truck and scanned the surrounding trees for movement with his side arm at the ready. He walked quickly to the broken down shack, stepped up to the rough wooden door and gave three sharp taps.

The door creaked open and a set of dark brown eyes peered out at Michael.

"Good evening. I am looking for Herman Cabrera." Michael called the man by his cover name used at the Embassy. He saw a quick flash of recognition and then fear in the man's eyes.

"He's not here. Please leave. Right Now," as the click of a gun being cocked sounded from behind the door.

"It is important that I speak with him," Michael continued calmly. "I'm here to help his friend... Ellie."

"How do you know that name? Who are you?" Pasqual hissed as the barrel of the pistol peaked out the through the door.

"If you put that away I'll tell you," Michael stated while calmly revealing his side arm that remained holstered. "We have a mutual friend in Miami."

The door creaked open slightly. The dark haired man kept his aim fixed as he assessed the person before him.

"Can I come in?" Michael took a confident step towards the door.

"You're the one Pearse sent," he glaring scornfully but let Michael pass though the doorway.

Michael scanned the interior of the run down house and took a seat in a wobbly kitchen chair. "Nice place you got here."

"Thanks. I don't really plan to stay long. But if Agent Pearse sent you talk me into leaving Panama, you're wasting your time."

"I didn't come here so you could try to kick my ass like you did your handler." Michael teased.

Pasqual shot him a dark glance. "You know Williams?"

"Yeah, I've worked with him a few times," he nodded to Pasqual. "He can be an asshole if he decides he doesn't like you, "and gave the young man a dry smile.

Pasqual chuckled and his shoulders relaxed slightly. Michael took that as a good sign as he lowered a nap sack from his shoulder and placed it on the rough wooden kitchen table. "My guess is you haven't slept or eaten anything in what…at least 72 hours?" He brought out a greasy brown paper bag removing two foam containers filled with roasted chicken, yellow rice and fried plantains. "I thought you might want something..."

"Thanks." Pasqual accepted the box without opening it. "But how can I possibly stop for a minute? Ellie's out there…" as he began to pace the room, "and I'm stuck in this rat hole."

"Don't get yourself so worked up," Michael replied. "It won't help her." He walked in to the kitchen to forage in the dingy cabinets for plates and cutlery. "Raines and the team are working on a new lead. I'll meet with him tomorrow morning to go over the strategy"

"I don't trust Raines." Pasqual said agitated. "He's the one that pulled me out of the Embassy over some bullshit that my cover was blown."

"You think it hasn't been?" Michael asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We both know that if I'd been made by one of the cartels they would have come after me, not Elizabeth. I'd be dead by now."

Michael shook his head. "That doesn't mean there's not a target on your back," as the senior agent piled the two plates with generous serving of the food. "Even if you haven't been made as CIA, someone still went to the trouble of kidnapping your fiancée. They might decide to shoot you just to reinforce their demand to keep quiet about her story." He slid the dish towards the young man.

Pasqual ignored the plate.

Michael pulled out a six pack of beer from the knap sack, removed two and put the remaining bottles in the ancient refrigerator. "I agree with Pearse. You need to keep your head down for a while."

"I won't leave Panama without her."

"I understand," he nodded and opened the two bottles, offering one to Pasqual.

The young man accepted the beer hesitantly. "You couldn't possibly…"

"You'd be surprised," Michael sipped from his own bottle. "By the way, my name is Michael Westen."

Paqual's eyes grew wide with recognition. "Good to meet you," he replied and took a pull of the beer.

Michael remembering that he had not eaten anything since his bourbon lunch with Raines earlier in the day dug into the mound of food in front of him. "Tomorrow, I'll talk to Pearse about keeping you in Panama for a few more days."

"Thanks." Pasqual replied and began to pick at the rice on his plate with a fork.

"So why don't you bring me up to speed on a few things. The abduction hasn't been reported to the media yet and only her family back in England knows that she's been taken, right?"

"Yeah, the bastards sent the demands to her boss at the BBC. If the story goes public and their plan for the coup is announced…"

"Well the protocol is to keep these things quiet unless the publicity helps. For current the circumstances I think we should take a two pronged approach. First, we need to get the hostage takers to negotiate. Silence is a commodity in itself and that is something to start with but they might also want money or the release of gang members from prison. We need to keep them engaged in a conversation so we can learn more about who they are."

"But we don't even know if La Vega's men or Guierro's militia are holding her," Pasqual replied growing frustrated.

"Not yet. That's where I come in. We can figure that out once we get them talking." Michael took another long swig of beer. "I know you have probably gone over this already but do you have any idea who she was meeting that day?"

Pasqual shook his head. "She didn't tell me. That was our deal. We kept a fire wall between our work and our personal lives unless it was… a request by the CIA."

"Elizabeth was your asset." Michael had already read the couple interesting case history from the field reports.

"Yes, it's a long story." The young man dismissed the question and took another sip of his beer. "It was my fault she was taken." The grief shone on his face. "I never should have let her go to that meeting alone."

"Don't beat yourself up. We both know these situations are never that simple."

"Yeah. I guess," Pasqual nodded.

"Hell, if your fiancé is anything like mine," Michael laughed, "you probably couldn't stop her from doing something she was determined to do even if you handcuffed her to a wall."

"Yeah, Ellie is just like that. She decides she wants something, she goes after it," he said with a hint of a smile.

"How long you two been engaged?" Michael inquired.

"Just last month, we met years ago when we were at university in England. Then we ahh…reconnected recently since we were both stationed here in Panama. What about you?"

"My fiancé and I have known each other a long time." Michael nodded. "It just took us while to figure things out."

"The best of luck to you Westen." Pasqual raised his beer bottle in congratulations but before Michael could to reciprocate the gesture the young agent changed the topic of conversation. "What about the second part of the operation? Who will be figuring out where she is being held?"

"That's where we can lean on MI6 and the local police. They can work on tracing the calls and analyzing the photo that was sent. You can keep up with your contacts and conduct research from here."

"Are you kidding? I can't stay here."

"Can you come up with a better reason to give Agent Pearse for why I need to keep you in Panama? She wants you on the next private flight to Miami."

"I won't leave Ellie," Pasqual said in a determined voice that had a hinted of desperation. "I won't."

"I know its hard being put in the penalty box like this." Michael finished the last bit of food and dropped the plate into the sink. "But we need you to stay alive until Elizabeth gets backs."

"Thanks," as Pasqual drained the last of his beer.

#######

It was almost three in the morning when Michael returned to the military base. The stress of his day had finally caught up with him. The small officer's quarters he was assigned for the night allowed him adequate privacy but otherwise minimal comfort. After a shower, he felt a little better. He dried his hair with a starchy white towel that smelled of industrial detergent. He surveyed the drab room and then lobbed the wet cloth into the air. It landed with a thud in the grey metal bin in the corner. Then he fell back on the metal frame of twin bed, switched off the overhead light and folded a flat pillow under his head in a futile attempt to find a comfortable position to sleep.

Michael replayed the events of the day in his mind but could not shake the feeling that something was off. The need to crash at the end of the day had always been an expected part of life during a mission. He would work until he reached a state of physical and emotional exhaustion. Then he would collapse into sleep for few hours, wake up and do it all again then next day. Early in his career he had sustained the intense pace for months, even years, at a time. There had been an addictive quality to the near constant adrenaline rush. It usually took only the occasional night of heavy drinking or a casual fling to relieve the built up tension. But tonight, he had a hard time quieting the thoughts that swirled in his mind.

"Have I slowed down that much or am I just getting old?" He pushed the negative thoughts out of his mind as he rolled over onto his stomach and yanked the grey wool blanket up over his head. "Dam, this bed is uncomfortable. It smells terrible," he fumed. Then a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. "Is this what it's like to be homesick?" Earlier in his life, Michael had gone to great lengths to avoided establishing anything resembling a real home. His relationship with Fiona had changed his life in so many ways. One of them was the beautiful home that he shared with the woman loved more than anything in the world. And tonight he missed them both.

"Ugh," he groaned into the stale pillow. Michael chose not to fight the emotions that washed over him like a wave. He gave into the memory of soft fragrant comforts like the smell of Fiona's hair as he held her at night. It had become a signal to his body that it was time to relax and go sleep. Frustrated, Michael he flipped on the lamp and reached into his duffle. He rooted through the bag until he found a clean white t-shirt. He lifted it to his face and inhaled the faint scent of lemon and eucalyptus from their organic laundry soap. He spread the smooth fabric over his pillow and lay down again. He took a slow deep breath as his body began to relax. He reached to the side table for his personal cell phone only to remember that it was far too late to call home. He touched the screen and saw a text message waiting from a familiar number.

It read: _"Missing you tonight." _

He typed back. _"Me too. Be home soon."_

Then he flipped off the light, rolled onto his side and fell into a heavy sleep.

#########


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Note:

_**No copyright infringement intended**_

I want to say thank you to everyone for the reviews, follows and favorites. I have learned so much from reading the talented writers in this archive. This story is my first contribution. I really appreciate the feedback and words of encouragement. A special thanks to Jedi Skysinger for her reviews, suggestions and beta skills as this story has evolved.

#######################################

Thursday Morning 10:30 - Panama City

Michael and Pasqual walked together into Raines's office for a morning briefing on the Albright kidnapping investigation. Raines expected only to see Michael and his face showed his annoyance as they entered the room.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Raines barked.

Michael, aware that they had disobeyed a direct order, was undeterred by his superior's reaction. "He's with me."

"I don't give a shit," the senior agent snapped. His fiery glared shifted to the younger man. "Camacho, you were supposed to stay at the safe house."

Michael, well acquainted with Raines's temper, stepped in to intervene. "Pasqual, give us a minute," he requested as he glanced quickly at the door and then returned his determined gaze to Raines.

Pasqual was all too happy to take cover from the impending firefight and slipped outside to the hallway without a word.

"Westen, what kind of game do you think you're playing here?"

"Raines, when you gave me this assignment, you _knew_ that I don't speak Spanish. I need someone to translate during the negotiation."

"Yes, why does that have anything to do with him?"

"Why not let Pasqual work with me? He'll be safer here than out on his own in a remote safe house on the edge of the city."

"Pasqual Camacho should be on a flight to the States to face a review board for the shit he pulled two days ago with Williams. He's a loose cannon. Agent Pearce promised me that you'd rein him in and get him back to Miami before he makes any more trouble."

"You're probably right about him being a wild card, but you won't be able to get him anywhere near a plane without putting a gun to his head."

"Well, that's your problem now, not mine," Raines stated, trying to suppress a slight smirk.

"That's true," Michael agreed. But you haven't accounted for one very important fact."

"What's that?"

"Pasqual's is our best chance to find the source that Elizabeth's was supposed to meet last Friday."

"I don't believe that's true." Raines replied.

"I think you're wrong," Agent Westen countered. "What if the contact was willing to meet again, but this time with Pasqaul? Let him put out some feelers with his contacts and see if we can draw this guy out."

"What if there never was a source and it was a trap all along? The cartels could have used Elizabeth to expose Pasqual's cover and make the CIA reveal their presence at the Embassy."

"Like removing him from his post at the Embassy and shipping him back to the States for debrief while his fiancé is still missing doesn't do a pretty good job of announcing it already?"

"So, what's your point?" the boss asked.

"Pasqual should stay here for a couple more days. He can assist me in working with MI6 and the local police on the links to the hostage takers. I'll keep tabs on his research into the source and let you know if anything comes of it."

"Fine, he's all yours," Raines decided. "But don't let this kid play you. If he goes rogue…"

"He is not going to run."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he is in the exact same position I was last year," Michael reminded the older man. "You remember."

"How could I forget? You were a real pain in the ass," Raines grumbled.

"But I got the job done," the field operative advised. "Pasqual's not going to let up until he gets Elizabeth back, but he needs the resources of the CIA to find her. As long as he knows we're all working to that end; he'll follow orders. It's if you cut him out that you're going to have a problem."

"Alright, Westen, you got yourself a new sidekick. Don't screw this up."

"Thanks." Michael was not sure why he had fought so hard for an assignment he knew would be such a hassle.

He walked out into the hallway and found a nervous Pasqual pacing just outside the office door.

"What did Raines say?"

"We got the green light." He started to walk a back to his desk. "You'll be working with me on negotiations for the next couple days."

"Raines agreed to our plan?" Pasqual couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Not yet. We need to give him more details when we've got it mapped out. What he really wants is for you to stay out of the way and not make any more problems."

Pasqual looked as if the other man had just punched him in the stomach. "Do I still have to go to Miami?"

Michael shook his head. "I don't know but I bought us some time. I told him that your presence was essential to the investigation."

"You did?"

"Yes. Reach out to all of yours sources. Whoever might be a link to Elizabeth's contact, I need to know about. You can't hold anything back. And if you try anything or disappear, you're on your own. Understood?"

They arrived at Michael's desk. "Call Pearce and tell her that you'll be assisting me for the next couple days. I've got to ah… check up on something."

"Anything I can help with?"

Westen smiled. "No thanks. I've got this one."

######

Thursday 11:00 Panama City - Military Base Hospital

Michael peaked into a medical office outfitted as a playroom. It was painted with soft pastels and jungle animal decals adorned the walls. It was sparsely furnished with a worn out sofa and an ancient looking rocking chair. A tiny bookshelf held a sparse collection of tattered paperbacks and worn out toys. Yet the room was bright with sunlight streaming through the large windows. Michael could not help but think it was the most cheerful space he had stepped into since he arrived in Panama on Tuesday night.

He stood in the doorway and watched Gabriel from across the room as the little boy sat building with a wooden set of block. He had felt a sense of urgency to come to visit Gabriel as he rushed away from his pressing meeting schedule this morning. Michael wanted to make sure the little boy continued to feel safe after his trying ordeal yesterday. He also remembered his promise to the doctor that he would try to check on him. They were some tests that needed to be run and he wanted to make sure they went well. He hesitated to enter the room because he not sure if the child would still remember him.

The nurse stepped out of a small walk in closet just off the playroom. "We just finished up, so I brought him here for some play time,"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there." He smiled and nodded as he remained at the doorway. "The nurse at the desk said I could come down to see Gabriel."

"Yes, they called to let me know you were on your way." She smiled warmly. "Please come in. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

"I brought him something." He showed her a matchbox car of a 1967 Ford Mustang in bright red paint that he had picked up at the PX store on the way over. "Is that alright?"

"I'm sure he'll love it, " the young woman smiled.

Michael walked across the room and knelt down to look at the boy eye level, "Hi Gabriel."

The little boy made a squeal that Michael took as a greeting.

"It's good to see you, buddy. Are you feeling better today?"

Gabriel chattered something Michael could not understand and then handed him a wooden block.

"Thank you," he took the block and placed it on a small stack on the floor. Michael stood up and turned back to the nurse. "His color has improved. Has he been eating well?"

"Non-stop," she laughed. "He filled up on rice and chicken last night at dinner and eggs and tortilla for breakfast. He's got a great appetite."

"How were the tests this morning?

"He wasn't too happy being hooked up to the monitors, but I believe they got the readings they needed."

"Is there anything to be concerned about?"

"Doctor Riley will explain everything when he gets here in a few minutes. I need to get back to my station."

Michael nodded. He could tell from the nurse's expression that whatever the doctor had to tell him it was significant. "Is it all right if I stay here with him?"

"Yes, of course. Use that handset on the wall to call me if you need anything." She waved and called out, "Gabriel, Adios"

The boy smiled and waved a tiny hand back to her.

"Oh, we are going to miss that sweet face when he leaves tomorrow."

"What do you mean?" Michael questioned.

"He's scheduled to be released."

"I wasn't aware of that. Who will he be released to?"

"A local family services organization. It's similar to the child welfare system in the States."

The hair on the back of Michael's neck stood up as he recalled Jesse's brief mentions of a childhood spent in foster care. He hoped his face did not give away the sudden anxiety he felt. "I appreciate you mentioning that."

Gabriel pulled on Michael's arm.

He turned to the boy and smiled. "What is it, pal?"

The child grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the toys.

"Do you want me to build with you?" Michael knelt down on the carpet next to the little boy and gathered a handful of wooden blocks. He held one of the cubes in his hand and ran his fingers over the smooth wood grain. The echoes of a memory came flooding back, although he could not place a specific time or location.

He thought, "I bet I loved these as a kid," and then turned to the toddler next to him and asked, "Why don't we make a tower?"

Gabriel grabbed the block out of his hand and clapped it with another as he chattered nosily.

"OK, I'll start us off." Michael set a pair of blocks on top of each and then handed another to the boy, "Your turn."

The child carefully placed the cube on top of the small stack and then looked with a beaming smile to the grown man for approval.

"That's good. Now it's my turn." Michael placed another square on the stack.

They continued the game several more iterations and soon the blocks were several tiny wooden towers. Suddenly, the little boy grinned mischievously as he swung his arms in the air, knocking over the entire block construction.

"Hey!" Michael feigned being upset as the toddler giggled at the chaos he created. "That's alright. Why don't we build a roadway for your car?"

Michael showed him the little red car and was rewarded with another squeal of delight from the tiny boy.

"Maybe we can use these to make a tunnel." He gathered a few of the hard cover children's books. Michael opened the book and rested it on the floor with the cover halfway open. Gabe made an engine noise as he pushed tiny red car through cardboard and paper archway. "Yeah, there you go."

As they played, Michael noticed that the child looked to him to guide the pace of the activity and seemed to understand some of the instructions he spoke to him. "Wonder if someone in his family spoke English?" he mused out loud.

When Gabriel smiled at Michael, he could not help but wonder if he had ever met a child so easy going and sweet. Even more stunning was the ease the spy felt in the toddler's presence. Kids were never his thing. He was uncomfortable with them at best and he certainly had not found any want to be around them before. He wondered what it was different about Gabriel that disarmed his usual reserve with children.

Michael glanced at the clock on the wall and was surprised that more than nearly thirty minutes had past practically unnoticed. Just then, the doctor walked in the room.

"Sorry for the delay, Agent Westen. I was waiting for the last of the test results."

"No problem, we're just doing some construction work," Michael said as he stood up and dusted off his dress pants.

"I just want to confirm that you still have an on-going search for his family members."

"Yes, has someone contacted the hospital?"

"No, but this will be of interest to you." He passed Michael an official looking document. "We obtained a copy of his birth certificate?"

"Where did you find this?"

"It was listed in a national registry. We did a match through his blood type and his footprint."

Michael looked at the form.

_Name: Gabriel Alexandro Vargas  
Born: February 2, 2009  
Mother: Isobel Desoto Vargas  
Father: Unknown_

"There's no father listed."

"I was surprised to see that as well," the doctor admitted. "But these things still happen occasionally. The mother could have been…"

"It doesn't matter," Michael interrupted. "At least we know who we are looking for now. Do you have any other information?"

He handed the covert operative a hospital registration form. "Gabriel was born in a small hospital in San Miguelito. His mother was 22 years old, unmarried. There was an address from the hospital records. But it is over two years old, so we don't know if it is current."

"Were there any other hospital records?"

"Yes, it was fortunate that we found the medical reports when we did. The treatment history corresponds with the test results we received this morning," Dr. Riley confirmed.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"There are strong indicators of weakened blood flow in the left ventricle of Gabriel's heart. His records showed that the hospital staff picked up on signs at birth. Sometimes these conditions resolve themselves as a child grows, but not always. We can to follow up with more testing, but he would be better served in a pediatric hospital with more specialized equipment than what we have here."

"How serious is this condition? Is it life threatening?

"If it is not treated right away, it will likely cause problems later in childhood. Significant complications are a risk."

"Does he need surgery?" Michael looked over at Gabe.

"Most likely, but it is not overly complex."

"Is he even old enough? I mean, he's still so little?"

"I would think so," the doctor assured him. "These procedures are performed routinely in many hospitals in the United States."

"You think he should be treated outside of Panama?"

"There is top notch pediatric cardiology program at Miami Children's Hospital. That's probably the closest one in the States."

"I know someone who does a lot of fundraising for them." Michael thought of his friend Sam and his girlfriend Elsa, who was the Chairperson of a development committee for the hospital. The couple had attended a black tie ball a few weeks ago. Michael had declined an invitation, but now was grateful for the connection. He paused to contemplate the possible consequences of the offer he felt compelled to make.

"Dr. Riley, what if I could able get Gabriel some help? Would you be willing to provide the supporting medical documents?"

"Absolutely," the man confirmed.

"I can't make any promises and I'll need time to talk to some people back in Miami. Is there any way you can postpone his release tomorrow?"

"We can keep him for one more day for observation, but not much longer than that," Riley offered.

"Great. I'll see what I can do."

From across the room, Gabriel let out a shout of frustration.

"Hey, buddy." Michael reached down to pick up the little boy, who fussed loudly. The toddler squirmed away as he gestured with his small hands towards the bookshelf.

"What's the matter? Do you want a book?"

"Coche! Coche!" Gabriel flopped down on the floor with tears streaming from his eyes. "Coche…"

Michael glanced up at the doctor in bewilderment.

"Did he have a toy car?" Dr. Riley asked.

"Oh yeah, it must be under there." Michael knelt down and reached under a gap between floor and the shelf. He quickly retrieving the matchbox car and offered it to the weepy child.

Gabe responded with a smile as he took the car from Michael. Then the child let out a yawn and began to rub his eyes. To the grown man's surprise, the boy leaned his tiny body into him and resting his head on the covert operatives shoulder. Astonished that the child was so affectionate and comfortable with him, Michael asked, "Are you sleepy?"

The toddler let out another yawn and slipped a thumb into his mouth.

"Why don't I have a nurse come take him back to the nursery?" Dr. Riley suggested.

"That's probably a good idea," Michael agreed.

"Let me know where you need me to send those reports," the doctor said before he stepped out the door.

Michael stood up and held the Gabriel in his arms as the toddler drifted off to sleep. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Paz, I need you to meet me at the hospital wing."

"Everything alright, Westen?"

"Yes. I need you to check with your Embassy contacts about an address."

"No problem, I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, Pasqual walked into the small room. "Oh," was the first word that popped out of his mouth. He could not have been more surprised to find his new boss, Michael Westen, holding a tiny sleeping child.

Michael read the confusion on the younger man's face. "This is the boy I told you about, from the mission yesterday. His name is Gabriel."

#####

Two hours later-

Michael stepped into an empty conference room to make a private call to Sam. He did not want anyone from CIA to know yet about his plans to help Gabe. He and Pasqual were both coordinating calls and meetings with MI6 in the effort to track down Elizabeth Albright. But Michael knew there was only a brief window of time that he could help Gabriel before the child was turned over to the local social services. Pasqual had offered to assist in the effort in any way possible. He spoke with his friend in Miami a few hours before to explain the circumstance and ask for assistance from the Children's Hospital.

"Hey Sam, What did Elsa find out from her contact."

"Not to worry Mike, your little friend will be in good hands. There is a program to sponsors overseas kids that will cover most of the expenses for treatment. We went to a dinner party with the Chief of Surgery last week and Elsa's putting on another fancy fundraiser next month. So there shouldn't be any problems on this end."

"Great, send me the names of the doctors from the cardiology group when you hear back from them."

"Will do," Sam paused for a moment. "So by the way, Mikey, how is Fi with you… ah … bringing a kid home?"

"I haven't told her yet," Michael said with a slight hesitation.

His mind returned to the unfinished conversation with Fiona before he left for Panama but quickly pushed it aside. There were too many details to chase down and forms to fill out to dwell on the uncomfortable questions that remained in Miami. At the moment, his concern was gathering all possible resources to assist Gabriel. He would talk to Fi later. "I want to finalize the plan before I say anything."

Sam laughed "Yeah well, don't say I didn't warn you. Woman and babies can be touchy stuff."

"What do you mean?" Michael questioned

"Well when I told Elsa about little Gabriel coming to Miami, she kept saying how wonderful it was that you and Fi were adopting; that you guys would be terrific parents."

"That's not what's happening here, Sam," Michael replied annoyed. "This is a medical evacuation."

He was frustrated by the assumption his friend made but he knew from an outsiders perspective it was perfectly logical. He and Fiona had finally become engaged, bought a house and settled down. Children were the natural next step for most people. But they had never been like most people. Michael had not planned for parenthood as part of his life. "We're still trying to track down him family," he continued.

"Okay then." Sam replied. "Has anybody turned up looking for him yet?"

"No. When we found him it looked like he had been hidden or abandoned. We're not sure where his mother is. There's a lead that we're following but we're still waiting on an update from someone."

"Poor kid," Sam said sympathetically. "It seems like a miracle the way you found him."

"Yeah, it was the craziest thing. I was walking in the middle of the bush and just about to head back to the village when I heard a random noise. I followed it down the trail to a shed and there he was… all alone in the dark."

Michael's felt a surprising surge of emotion. While protective instincts were familiar to him from years of looking out for his fellow soldiers, family, friends and clients, his sudden attachment to Gabriel had been quite unexpected and entirely new. "It seems like Gabe has become my responsibility since that morning. I just want to make sure he's safe and healthy until we can get him back to his family."

"I know you're trying to do right by the little guy. We'll do everything we can. I'll give you a call as soon as we hear back from the doctors."

"Thanks Sam."

"Anytime, Brother."


End file.
